A Few Small Repairs
by Her Sweetness
Summary: People are disgusting. That's what Ryou knows and has always known. When he decides to do something about it, they find out how dangerous repairs can be. Angstshipping and Tendershipping.
1. What I Know

Disclaimer: I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh.

Warning: Character death, may contain disturbing themes. Rating will change.

Her Sweetness: What can I say? I got inspired. This is my first time writing like this, so please enjoy what I've written here. If you want this continued, I advise you to review.

…

— A Few Small Repairs—

What I Know:

_Can you hear me when I'm dreaming?_

_Yes._

… _What do I dream of?_

_Me._

_And who are you?_

_Death._

--

The wind whipped through the trees. Bare branches collided into the school's windowpanes and the scratching of the twigs on glass was a small disturbance in the background to the teenagers in the classroom. Their high-pitched voices and gossips and the teacher's clicking of his mouse by the computer in the corner. Florescent lighting made it so that, even though the weather outside was dreary, grey and unpleasant, the classroom seemed normal and calm and filled with laughter.

Teenagers were in the center of the room. Most of them. Others were either skipping classes or in the other corners of the classroom being fondled and kissed and caressed by their temporary lovers.

"…" A sigh escaped the pale lips of a teenager who hadn't gotten up from his seat. Who wasn't speaking. Who wasn't gossiping. Who had no lover. His head was placed on the desk, his cheek pressed against the desktop and his pale, limp hair falling all around him. He looked out to him classmates with dark, chocolate eyes. To anyone those eyes said nothing but warmth, sympathy and innocence. To anyone, those eyes could belong to a child.

But despite the fact that they were beautiful, accompanied by a beautiful face, beautiful features, those eyes were empty and stoic. They were blank. Deep chocolate voids, not filled with warmth, sympathy or innocence, but with confusion and malcontent.

His hands hung limply at his sides, all the blood rushing down into his hands from sitting this way since class began, an hour ago. He sighed again, this time a bit louder. As if trying to get the classes attention, but at the same time, not wanting it. He'd refuse it if anyone tried to come over, to greet him or be friendly.

Of course, he'd never say anything spiteful or nasty. Nothing mean. He wasn't raised that way. He was meant to love, be loved and look at the world with nothing but content. And that is what he had done for _sixteen years_.

His eyes narrowed a bit, now watching one of the loudest ones in the classroom. A brown-haired girl in the center of six teenage boys, giggling and pretending to be shy about them touching her but all the time her eyes showed that she wanted it. Wanted it badly and would welcome any one of them to take her.

'Filthy slut.' He thought, eyes closing after he'd seen one of the boys outmaneuver the others and manage to catch her interest the most. He'd taken her by the arm and they went to the back of the classroom to the utility closet and shut it behind them. The girls in the room giggled and the boys either pouted or praised their comrade amongst each other, wishing for a brief moment that they were him.

'Filthy, filthy slut…' He moaned and turned around, his blank, loving, hating chocolate eyes facing the windows.

The branches of the trees hit the windowpane again and he tilted his head upwards, looking at the cloudy, grey sky. It was apparent that rain was coming, on its way and he only felt comfort in this. Rain. He loved it. Was in love with it. Rain was his only friend, his only confidant. Rain was the most gorgeous thing in the world to him. Because it was clean. Rain was the essence of cleanliness and decency. And, has he'd always been told, cleanliness is next to godliness.

Rain washed everything away. Sins. Curses. Dirt. Mud. Rain washed it all away, took it all from the world and let people start off with a wonderful, clean slate. But some did not take advantage of rain's generosity. Like his 'friends'. Like his classmates. Like his teachers, neighbors… Like people.

Now bumping could be heard in the back of the classroom, from inside the closet. The sounds of mops being knocked over or buckets or something that the classroom used. Moans followed and grunts. The classroom turned into a fit of giggles and 'ooh'ing.

He clenched his eyes shut, 'Disgusting, filthy… Why? Why? Why are you people like this? It's disgusting, please stop… Please…'

The very thought of what they were doing sickened him. He wanted to disappear, not to hear those sounds anymore, not to hear anything anymore. All he wanted was for them to stop. In dismay, he looked back at the teacher's desk as he continued to play solitaire on his computer. At least that's what the class had always believed.

But he knew better.

He'd seen it once. He'd wanted to ask the teacher a simple question and quietly walked behind his desk, about to tap him on the shoulder, but stopped. On the screen was a black page with naked women and obscene pictures and he'd dropped his pencil and gone out of the classroom. He couldn't take it anymore.

But now the teacher was back at his desk, back there doing only what one student knew.

'People are awful…' He turned back to the window, 'People are so horrible… They truly are… And to know… to know that I'm one of them, one of their kind! To know that I am just like them, just like every one of them… Or I… have the capacity to be. B-But… But I… I am…'

A lightning bolt stuck close by and the lights in the entire school flickered before they came back on. The teenage girls screamed, being dramatic. The teenage boys made their move. The teacher clicked again on his mouse.

He cringed and clinched his fists.

'Rain… Wash us. Make us good again. Make us sweet and kind and pure again. Make us clean.'

In less than five minutes, after repeating those words in his head, the first drop hailed from the heavens and the second drop followed, sliding down the windowpane. Sliding right in front of his face. And, for this brief moment, saving him.

The closet door opened abruptly. The girl stumbled out, her brown hair in a mess and sweat running down her back. The boy falling out after her, a stupid grin on his face. To the girls, he was hot. To the boys, he was a hero.

To him, he was dead.

'W-Wash him… Please…'

For years, he'd been wishing for rain to wash these people, save them and make them good again. But it hasn't happened. Rain had done so much for him, but it seemed that everyone else stayed the same. Or got worse. Got so bad that not even rain could save them.

It had always been a sad thought. It crept into his mind every now and then. The thought that not even his 'friends' could be saved. They were filthy, too. They were very filthy and though no one else saw it, he did.

The bell rang suddenly and motions happened, as they always did. He no longer did anything anymore. It was all a motion. He would immediately go down stairs and fetch his homework or text books and leave. And as he stood under the awning of the school's courtyard, he watched as two sweethearts kissed each other goodbye and went their separate ways.

He crinkled his nose and thought, 'Idiots…'

The other students either called for a ride or got out their umbrellas and trudged through puddles and concealed potholes.

He stepped out into the rain and walked down the street.

It ran down his uniform, soaked into his hair and the books he was carrying. And he loved it. He loved every drop that fell onto his cheek, every bead that he managed to catch with his tongue. He loved it all. The rain was gorgeous this day and this was why he liked spring so much. It always would rain in spring. Always.

Not only did he love the fact that rain was cleansing him, making him clean, washing his body from being around those filthy barbarians, but… It just _felt_ so damn good.

Looking up as it fell on his face full force, he almost moaned. Nothing and certainly no one could make him feel like rain. Rain felt better than any lover. Rain tasted better than any lover. Rain tasted wonderful. He imagined that this was how others felt when being intimate with their boyfriends or girlfriends. Rain tasted like ecstasy. Rain tasted like power. Rain tasted like making love between sweat-stained sheets.

He could've let rain take him then and there.

But as his motions led him up the sidewalk to his home, and as he'd opened the door, he looked back up at the rain, forlornly.

'I'll be back again…' he thought as he entered.

The house was warm. A little too warm. He must've left the heater on before he left in the morning. Hearing the thunder and rain continue outside, he dropped his school supplies on the couch and walked briskly into the kitchen, plopping down at the table.

He arranged himself like he'd been at school. Face down on the table, cheek pressed against it, arms hanging down at his sides. And him facing the window and the rain. Teenagers were still walking down the streets, the sidewalks, going towards their homes. It wasn't ten minutes longer before a couple walked by, using an umbrella to shield themselves and hold hands in what the believed to be peace.

Ryou clinched his fists.

"Something needs to be done."

--

_Your name is Death?_

_No, I _am_ Death._

_How can one… be… Death…?_

_Ask yourself._

… _What?_

_Ask yourself how one can be Death. You may find you already know._


	2. Headaches

Disclaimer: I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh.

Warning: Character death, may contain disturbing themes. Rating will change.

Her Sweetness: Wow, I'm so happy you guys liked it! I got a great turn out and it really made me want to do this more! So, this is for all who enjoyed and reviewed!

* * *

— A Few Small Repairs—

Headaches:

_I… do dream of Death…_

_I know._

_P-Please… Please help me stop it._

_And why would I do that?_

_W… Why…?_

_I like it when you dream of me. I like it a lot._

--

His eyelids drifted shut and he turned his head into the table, letting out a small breath before a timid smile graced his lips.

"Oh rain… Rain, I-I want to help you… I need to help you clear this world… t-this disgusting world of everything. I have learned, however… that there are _some_ things rain cannot do… And there are _some_ things that we must work together on…" His small smile turned back to a frown and he lifted his hand to his knee, rubbing it vigorously and anxiously. After a moment, he stood from his chair and walked up to the window, looking out with his never changing, stoic eyes.

The rain had tapered off since his walk home and was now a measly drizzle. But, for him, it was enough. It was always enough just to see rain's smile. That's what he referred to it as. A small smile. When there wasn't much rain, it was a small smile from rain to him and he would always smile back.

But he wasn't smiling now.

"Rain…" He muttered through trembling lips. His voice was low but it rose as he continued to look out of the window and, unknowingly, continued to speak, "Rain, be my partner. I have no idea what I must do but I know that if I follow my motions I won't do anything… I have always been too weak to…"

A clap of thunder in the distance opened his eyes and ears and resounded throughout the house, coming right back to him, holding him in place. Making his body perfectly rigid and still. Making his body a rain droplet on its own accord. For a moment, he stood still and for a moment he was reverted back to his true innocence. Soft chocolate eyes looked up into nothing and he smiled again. That smile took his moment away as he took a step away from the window and then another, smiling as he went out of the small dining room and into another section of the kitchen.

This kitchen was small, but it served for all his needs. Stove, dishwasher, sinks and cupboards. All the necessary appliances for a necessary house. A necessary street. A necessary life.

He crouched down in front of the sink and opened the cabinet below it. Spiders scurried away from the intruding light and pale hands as he reached around for something. Finally finding it, he took out an orange toolbox and used both arms to lift it out, carry it to his kitchen table and plunk it down, shaking the not-so-sturdy wooden table beneath it.

He kicked the chair out of the way and it crashed into his garbage can, knocking the papers that resided inside onto the floor in a scattered mess. He didn't care. He took in a small breath before proceeding to open the latch on the box. It had been a while since he'd seen the contents of this box. The last time was when his father had fixed the heater in the middle of winter. But that was a while ago. His father had always told him not to touch his tools. That they were dangerous. That they could hurt him, hurt someone else.

"It's alright." He muttered to himself as he continued to pry open the box with his forefinger and thumb, "It's alright."

It finally popped open and revealed its contents to him. It wasn't exactly how he'd remembered. The hammer was rather rusty and the screwdriver was even worse. All the same, he picked up that screwdriver, rust and all. He held the yellow and black-striped handle in his hand, felt the weight, the heft of it. It felt rather good.

"Ah…"

The screwdriver fell to the floor.

His hands trembled as he laid them flat on the table's surface and starred back out of the window, eyes shaking slightly in his head. He took in a few quick breaths and cringed, drooping his head and catching his breath before bending down and feeling around the tiled floor for his fallen tool.

He felt it and let his finger tips stroke the tip for a moment before standing with it and placing it back into the toolbox.

"T-That… it hurt… This time, it hurt…" He whispered, wincing as a bit of the pain came back. It slowly crept throughout his mind and swelled around his temples. Jarring him in all lobes of his brain, the pain came back tenfold and he fell to his knees, screaming and holding his head with both hands placed firmly on his ears, elbows elevated and panting heavily.

His eyes widened radically, his chocolate orbs dilating for a moment. He cried out, "I didn't do anything!"

The pain lessened just a bit. Just enough to where he could see shapes form in front of his eyes again. His breathing continued hard as his eyes darted around the room. The screwdriver was by his foot, innocently rolling from side to side, as a result of his episode. His heart sped up as he reached for it, taking it and clutching it to his chest, closing his eyes, he whispered, "I-I… didn't do anything…"

_You were about to._

His eyes flew open again. It was him. The one who brought him headaches… The one who spoke to him in dreams. The one whose voice used to calm him when he gave birth to thoughts of destruction and misery. The voice was hot. Very hot and steamy and sounded as if it was always right in his ear, breathing down his neck and even though that voice sometimes offered playful words or information about things that confused him, the voice reminded him of a sweltering and stifling day.

But now all it did was hurt him. Hurt him on the inside, give him headaches, telling him things. Telling him lots of things. They were things that he could control. They were things he could listen to or ignore. But he couldn't ignore the pain from the headaches. He couldn't ignore the pain from the…

"I-I haven't done anything..." He said, now sitting, propped up by the table's leg and still clutching his screwdriver. "Leave."

_You know what might happen if I leave._

"Nothing will happen. Leave. Now."

_You know what might happen if I leave._

"N-No… I don't…" He fought the dull throbs left as he found the strength to rise and stand up, back facing down at his toolbox. He kept the screwdriver in his hand and reset the chair back in its earlier position. Taking in a deep breath, he let it out slowly. "P-Please, leave… I-I haven't done anything…"

_Is something the matter?_

"I…" Shaking his head, he turned on his heel, screwdriver clutched firmly in both hands and held to the center of his chest. He said no more. Neither did the voice. The heat was gone and, for some reason, the house seemed to cool down.

The door opened in front of him as his hand had turned the knob and his legs carried him down the steps and out into the streets. The rain had stopped now altogether and this annoyed him more than anything at the moment. His friend, his partner, his lover was gone and this was a crucial moment. He needed guidance. He needed something to tell him what he was doing.

What was he doing?

He had opened his father's toolbox, stolen a screwdriver and was out of the house without the protection of his lover. He was exposed to all the others. Because his lover had gone for the time being, all these sickening people had come out and were bouncing around, playing and free-spirited. Unaware. Frighteningly unaware that he was out of his house, had stolen from his father's toolbox, had a screwdriver and felt insecure without his lover to guard him, to blind them all to his presence.

His motions, his footsteps, carried him through the neighborhood of happy children playing on the street, down the road where teenage boys threw footballs on the street and whores stood in open doorways.

He clutched his utensil tighter, wincing at their filthy existence.

'Go away…' He thought, growling under his breath and halting whenever one of them came too close to him. He continued walking and turned again, 'Go away, I can't… I can't stand it… Not anymore… Y-You've polluted this world for so long! All of you have clouded up the earth with your terrible acts and all I want is to be cleansed… All I want is…'

His motions stopped and he looked up at a house. A beautiful, white home. A beautiful, white home with green, springy grass and the clean air moving throughout the open windows on the sides of the house, white curtains blowing and whispering, sounds of grace and happiness.

_How do you feel?_

"B-Bad…"

He tucked the screwdriver in his back pocket and his motions carried him up the sidewalk and passed the front door. He made his way to the side yard, to one of the open windows. He stopped in his tracks and held his head still for a moment, before turning it rigidly to the side; upon doing so, he witnessed a girl. A girl, in her beautiful home, beautiful room, dancing in front of her mirror. He leant his head on the windowsill quietly, chocolate eyes intensifying with each move she made, scrutinizing her body. Her short, brown hair glistening from sweat, her azure blue eyes starring at her own reflection as she moved.

His beautiful, friendly, horrible, disgusting classmate.

The music she danced to was quiet, coming from a stereo in the corner of the room. But, as quiet as it was, it made him upset, mad, angry. It was a disgusting song, a horrid, sexual song. His eye twitched. He let out a small breath.

She twirled again and stopped on her right foot, starring out of the window with wide, worried and questioning eyes. She starred right out into his eyes and he looked back. He looked at her sadly before hopping up and over the windowsill, landing on the cream colored carpet with his muddy shoes and, turning around slowly to her, he kept his right hand placed on his hip, close to his back pocket.

"R-Ry—!"

"Don't! D-Don't say my name…" He turned his head away, taking another step towards her. She didn't move but flinched as he reached out his hand and moved it to grazing hers very swiftly, her body still immobilized from shock. He smiled, "I-Is it okay if I touch you?"

"… Yes…"

His eyes never left hers as he took her hand in his. Her breathing was still coming fast but she tried to hide it, tried to hold her body and organs and functions still. She opened her opened her mouth as he tightened his grip on her hand and used his other to massage her wrist. Her eyes darted around, "W-What are you doing here? Were you out there long?"

"No…" He smiled again and took a few steps back, never letting her arm go and thus pulling her with him. She parted her pink lips again, to speak, maybe to object, maybe to ask a question, but she parted them and, whatever she was about to say, those words didn't make it out into the air. Instead, a startled yelp came from her throat as she found herself pushed and pinned down onto her bed. He held her arms down and was directly over her, the tips of his pale hair inches away from her face.

She cried out, "What do you think you're doing?"

He nodded, eyes blank and starring down at her. He spoke without realizing it, "I know what I'm doing…" Reaching back with one hand, he felt around and found his screwdriver in his back pocket and slid it up her torso, barely letting it graze her body. The screwdriver made its way to her face, tracing lightly around her eyes and finally making small, delicate, perfect circles around her temples.

"Please, please…" She repeated, her eyes shut tight and quivering beneath him. Tears were streaming down her face as she managed to look him in the eyes, "Please don't, Ry—"

"You're so dirty…"

"_Please_!"

"I can't help you."

On the rooftop of that beautiful, perfect, sweet home, birds flew away from the power lines and the shingles, having heard a shrill scream that startled them into flying out into the sky. All the rain's signs had faded away and the sky was clearing, a beautiful azure blue. People continued to play outside. Broken laughter. Feigned innocence. Shattered beauty. Echoes throughout the streets and time went on.

The backdoor opened up slowly and a pale form drifted out into the backyard, into the echoes. He lifted his face to the clear, dusty sky, and a twinge of annoyance hit him. His lover was not there to see what he had done. Closing the door carefully behind him, he tucked a bloody, rusty screwdriver into his back pocket. Blotches of crimson stained his school uniform. He sighed as he walked down the street. Just another thing for him to clean.

His eyes remained blank as he starred at the ground, awaiting his motions to carry him away.

_How do you feel? _

"…"

--

…

_Let me ask you something._

…

_Do you regret?_

… _What?_

… _That's a perfect answer._


	3. The Second I Sleep

Disclaimer: I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh.

Warning: Character deaths, may contain disturbing themes. Rating will change.

Her Sweetness: Aw! You guys are so nice in your reviews I just had to put out another chapter for you sweet little things! Here ya go!

* * *

— A Few Small Repairs—

The Second I Sleep:

_It's really quiet here…_

_It's been this way forever._

_I've… never heard silence before._

_Then you've been deprived._

… _Deprived of what?_

_Of a different shade of me._

--

He'd walked passed them all without one stare or question or accusation. They were blind. Blind to what had just happened right under their own noses. Right in front of them. Blind to violence, blind to hatred, blind to something wonderfully horrible. He'd walked down streets and roads. Walked in front of people, and between them as they stood and leant against gates, speaking, kissing, loving.

He'd gone home.

The mud on his shoes was dry as he'd been out in the dreadful sun. He kicked them off as he entered his home and immediately began taking off the top half of his uniform, carrying the shirt in his arm and up the stairs.

'Disgusting…' he thought as he entered the bathroom and threw the shirt down on the closed toilet lid. After being with her, after being painted in her dirty fluids, after having her scream and flail on him, he felt dirty. And with his lover no where to be found, he was going to have to clean himself.

As he turned on the faucet to the marble-covered tub, he half smiled to himself. It used to be, that when it would rain, he'd sneak out into the backyard and strip down to nothing but pure, milky skin and let the rain wash over every inch of his body. He would hide nothing from his lover and rejoice when the cold water would run down his spine and over his chest, making him shiver and gasp at each touch and each caress that only they shared. His father never understood. He caught him out there once and lost his temper, banishing him to his room for the day and forbad him to go out in the rain again.

But nothing could keep them apart.

He suspected that's why his father was gone so often, calling and making excuses how his expeditions were always on the verge of breakthroughs and he wouldn't be home for another week. Or two. Or three. Numbers grew, time went on and checks came to pay for the mortgage and bills and plenty of pocket money. He wasn't coming back.

And he didn't object; didn't care. It was just as well. He could now enjoy the rain's pleasures whenever and however he wanted. And, now that he was older and alone, he could enjoy his lover's touches and strokes in more graphic ways.

His clothes were off now, his pants were on the floor and he slid one frail, pretty leg into the warm water, hissing from the intensity of the heated bath, but getting over it very quickly and placing himself in all the way. When he sat down on one of the edges in the bath, he slid his legs even further and let the water cover him until it was up to the base of his elegant neck.

His eyes were blank for a moment before they seemed to wander by themselves over to the floor where his pants lay, blotches were tinged in blood's color and so was his shirt. Out of the back pocket of the pants was his screwdriver.

He smiled.

_His_ screwdriver.

It sounded nice.

Reaching out a little and spilling a little bathwater, he grabbed his screwdriver and pulled it back into the tub with him, smiling delicately at it, as if it were a small child that he'd found on the street, crying. He stroked its head and chipped off a piece of rust with his fingernail, stopping when a dull pulse in his head made itself known.

He winced and almost dropped the screwdriver, but held onto it faithfully. He answered the dull knocking in the corridors of his mind, "… Why do you do this…?"

_The same reason you do. _

"… Once again, you're not making sense." A hint of aggravation hit him. He turned his head to face the wall and held the screwdriver to his chest, leaning his head into it. "I'm not interested in anything you have to say…"

… _You've grown quite attached to that tool you have there._ The low sound of a chuckle echoed in his mind and he grew red in the face, holding his tool closer. _Mind if I ask why?_

"I-I am… not attached!" He countered, shouting and splashing the water as he turned his head and the rest of his body.

_Do you feel good about what you've done? Does it make you feel good to kill?_

"… It doesn't feel… good…" He answered, letting his hand with the screwdriver drop into the water and feel around for a rag or sponge, "But at least… at least it _feels_…"

_Do you know what I think? I think you like it. I think it does feel good, makes you feel warm. Do you know what else I think? I think it turns you on like crazy. Is that it, sugar? Did killing that girl, taking her life, make you feel closer to your 'lover'?_

He took in a sharp breath and he shouted, "Shut up! Shut up, you know nothing about me!"

_Enjoy that feeling, sugar. It won't last forever._

Rage and impatience growing inside him, he held the rag he'd found between both of his hands tightly and it threatened to tear in two. He waited for a moment, trying to hear any smart remarks from the voice but there were none. And his headache was gone. He must've left for a while, which was good because he wasn't sure how much more he could've taken.

He looked to the side, out of the window that was almost directly overhead of the tub. It was turning out to be a clear night and there wasn't any indication that it would rain in the middle of the night, tomorrow or even the day after. Just thinking about it made him fight back tears. He wanted, needed to feel the passion-filled droplets on his skin again and swallowed hard, feeling backwards to the faucet and pulling up the small lever above it.

Suddenly the showerhead began to spray water down into the tub. He unplugged the drain and let the tub water go down to leave him with the new drops raining down on his body. A shy smirk graced his lips as he leant back and let the rain fall, sliding his hand down his chest and stomach, teeth chewing on pink-tinted lips and eyes rolling back in his head all the way down.

Fifteen minutes passed before the bathroom door was nudged open and he came halfway stumbling out with a blue and white towel wrapped around his slender hips and dirty, bloody clothes in his arms. His motions were taking him downstairs and he threw the garments in the washer, turning it on and hoping they'd be ready in time for school the next morning. But if they weren't… he doubted he'd care. The thought of going to that awful place in a uniform covered in their most beloved pupil's blood brought a smile to his lips.

As he was preparing to go to his room and ready himself for bed, a few thuds echoed throughout the living room. He turned his head towards the front door and, without thinking about it, went and opened the door.

His breath caught in his throat for a moment at the tan-skinned, blonde god who stood on the porch, looking back at him as the door opened fully. As only seconds passed, purple, mystic orbs met two deep, brown and the silence was broken by the god.

"Ry—"

"You're here awful late…" He said rather quickly, though the edginess in his voice went unnoticed. He tilted his head to the side as this person looked down to his towel which was slipping slowly down his side. He pulled it up with one hand and feigned a small chuckle, "Um, d-did you want to come in…?"

"No, no, I… I wanted to make sure you were okay."

"… Okay?"

The god jerked his head up, "Didn't you hear the sirens? From the police cars? They're just down the street; you can hear them all over the neighborhood."

He shook his head timidly, "I didn't hear anything."

"Well… that girl down the street… Tea. Her mom found her on her bed with a hole going straight through her head; the whole room was bloody and…" He motioned towards the street, "Everyone's been worried and scarred because they don't know who did it. They think the guy's on the loose in the neighborhood and I wanted to make sure you were okay."

"I-I'm sorry, I didn't know."

"So, you think you'll be alright?"

A shadow passed over his face and his left foot shifted backward on the grey carpet. He nodded and held up his falling towel again. "Yes, I'll be fine, please don't worry about me." He finished his sentence with the definition of innocent smiles, his brown eyes shining under the blinking porch light.

"… Good. I'll see you later, then." Blonde hair swung behind him as he bounded down the steps and walked down the sidewalk, towards his own home, only looking back once to see him shut the door.

After closing his portal to the outside world, he shivered and went upstairs. He hadn't seen that god in a while, maybe a week or so and to have him just knock on his door like that was unexpected. He was the only one of his 'friends' that he'd ever even opened up to. That he'd ever gone outside his motions with. Everyone else saw a friendly, beautiful face and said hello every now and again. Did that make them companions worth having?

The god was different, he understood and he had motions too. Not a day went by in all his thinking did he ever once consider the god to be filthy or tainted like all the rest. He was pure, he was. He was the only one. But as wonderful as he thought the god was, he'd lied to him. He'd lied to him in a motion.

Motions happened then. He put on pajamas. Brushed his teeth. Turned out the light. And got into bed. Covers swirling around him tightly as he continued to scoot closer to the wall and stare out at his room with darkening eyes.

Sleeping was always an ordeal for him. Always. Because when he went to sleep a deep void consumed him and he could hear nothing, see nothing, touch nothing. But he felt something. Instead of his wonderful lover calming him and singing him into purity, he felt hot and smothered. The darkness itself was scorching. When it felt as if he wouldn't survive it for much longer the swelling heat let up and he would feel two hands on his back as he sat in the middle of darkness, sweating and panting.

Those two hands stayed in place all while the voice of darkness spoke to him. Told him many things. And he couldn't shake away from a feeling of two hands planted firmly on his upper back while a sultry, feverish voice whispered things in his ear late at night when all else was peaceful and he was to endure hell.

He closed his eyes and waited for the sounds of his lover. They never came.

--

_I want to know… I want to know what Death is. Who you are._

_I am Death. I cannot make it any easier for you than that sentence. I am Death. _

_Does that mean you're hatred? Lies? Deceit? _

_Those are all shaded of me, sugar, just shades._

_You keep saying that, but what are shades?_

… You_ happen to be a shade._


	4. With Care And Deceit

Disclaimer: I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh.

Warning: Character deaths, may contain disturbing themes. Rating may change.

Her Sweetness: Hey, sorry about the delay. This whole 'multiple fic' thing is really kicking my butt. Heh heh. Well, here ya go, have fun!

* * *

— A Few Small Repairs—

With Care And Deceit:

_Does Death fear anything?_

_No._

_You have to… there's something you're afraid of. There's something._

_Then what is it?_

_I'm asking you._

_You should be asking yourself, sugar._

--

He was placed back in his motions when the next day came and classes had begun. The day outside was a little foggy but that was it. Other than the light fog and the dew on the leaves and green grass, the day outside was just as clear as the classroom inside. They barely needed the florescent lighting.

He took his seat like he did everyday. His seat in the back, right next to the window. He made sure he was always right next to the window and he made sure the blinds were always open, especially in the spring. He wanted to be the first to see and greet his lover when it came down, gracing the disgusting and undeserving world with its soft touches.

But today, his lover deemed the world unworthy of even a smile.

'Good… I'm glad they can't see your beauty, feel your touch…' He thought, shifting in his seat and glaring out at his chattering classmates, 'Every time a beautiful raindrop falls on their skin, it's w-wasted… wasted… on them and I just want you all for myself. Me, me and nobody else… I just want to show you…'

"Hey, did you hear about Tea?"

Suddenly, he stopped the workings in his head and turned himself slightly to the left, his face being hidden by his arm. He wanted to hear this. While he had never, ever ever wanted to hear their retched voices, while he had never been interested in their mindless babble of lives they thought were important, this was important. They knew of what he had done. But he doubted they knew it was him.

"No, what happened?"

"S-She's… dead…"

"… No, she isn't, you're lying!"

"No, I'm not…! Sometime yesterday, a lunatic crawled through her window and killed her… It was on the news all yesterday and this morning, too, my dad said they think it was someone who knew her."

"W-Why do they say that?"

"I don't know. It's something about passionate violence, that a random murderer would've probably shot her, but this murder seemed personal."

"I… can't believe it… She was just here, yesterday. She was standing right in front of us."

He listened on, head buried, face hidden from the world. Eyes glistening, lips curved, breathing steadily, maybe not at all. The girls, her friends, spoke about the date of her funeral and the boys said nothing but he felt their every emotion. Just another girl gone. They'd miss her beauty and how easy she was, anywhere, anytime… But there was another. And another. The list was endless and so were the possibilities.

_Listen to them, sugar, listen… They're talking about what you did; they're talking about your handiwork. They don't really care, they don't. She was just one, just one. There're billions more, sugar, what do you think about that?_

"…" He shifted slightly again and closed his eyes, a small fire flickering deep inside. He said nothing, thought nothing and waited for the tingling in his head to cease.

_What will you do now?_

"Yugi's really torn up over it." He heard someone say. He and the voice listened.

"He's not here today; did he take the day off?"

"Yeah. I think he had some kind of huge crush on her; at least that's what the rumors were. No one's seen him since last night, I hope he's okay."

There was no warning when a twinge of pain hit his temple. He shuttered and shook violently, but managed to keep it under control as not to bring attention to himself (would they really pay attention?). Another violent shock took over his entire head as he heard them continue their conversation, continue it and make him angry, mad; unhappy.

His arms shook as he pushed himself up from his desk; his palms face down against the cool wood. He lifted his head and walked slowly up to the front of the room, feeling eyes on his back. For once, they saw him, for once. He stood in front of the teacher and his computer as he clicked on his mouse again. His headache worsened.

"I'd like to go home." He spoke softly; his limp, feathery bangs were masking his eyes.

"…" There was another click, "Do you feel ill?"

"I do. I'd like very much to go home and lay down."

"Do you need for the school to call a cab—"

"No. No, I'll walk. Thank…" His voice trailed off as he turned on his heel and opened the door, leaving the classroom in stunned silence. They rarely ever heard his voice and when they did, it was not so stoic. He'd always feigned sweetness. Made sure his voice was airy, light and fluffy like cotton candy. Pink and sugary and made sure everyone loved his voice. He didn't care anymore. All cloaks and disguises… he had no use for them anymore.

In less than five minutes, he was out on the street in front of the school. From outside, from outside the school building, things did not seem as pleasant as they once did. Things seemed a tad bit dreary, if that was the right word. Dreary. Though there was no sign of his lover, no sign at all, there was a touch of wind that shook the trees and their green leaves. He looked up as he crossed the street and did not see a lovely, blue sky but some grey and full clouds.

The dull throb on the side of his head made him go faster. He remembered he had not stopped at his locker for assignments and books. He remembered that he did not even pick up his backpack when he'd left the classroom. But that was always something the motions would take care of. He would never worry about forgetting those kinds of things because he couldn't, because he never did them, they were always the motions.

But the motions did not come today.

He knew this when he realized that he was walking a different way. He was not going home. He was going down the next street, and the next and the next. Passing some adults and senior citizens that looked at him wearily. Thinking he was skipping school, thinking he was a bad person.

'I'm not a bad person, I'm not…' He winced. Standing right at a cross section, having pressed the button and was waiting for the light to change, he heard a call. He heard his name. He lifted his head and looked to his right; to his surprise and disappointment, a lithe, blonde god was starring at him, calling his name again. He pressed the button again, more hurriedly, hoping for the cars to at least stop, but they were going too fast for him to cross.

But the god was much more fortunate in the aspect that his light chanced immediately and before he knew it, he was standing right next to him. The god was wearing his signature belly shirt which rose almost to his chest as he held his hands behind his back and tilted his head slightly to the left.

"What are you doing here? Did school let out early or something?"

"No. No, it didn't, I… I don't feel well." He answered, avoiding eye contact. The light changed finally, but he didn't move. They stood there for a good moment before the god tilted his head even further and he seemed to be looking at his friend's side.

"… What… What is that, Ry—"

"What is what… Ah, oh…" He looked back and out of his back pocket, there was the head of a screwdriver sticking out, its rusty tip was very noticeable on the background of his blue uniform. At the same time they both felt their heartbeats quicken. He had no idea how it came to be in his pocket, he thought he'd left it in his bed this morning. How did it get there?

_Do not lie to yourself, sugar. You _know_ how it got there. You _know

"I-I don't know!" He almost shouted, turning back to his friend, "I… don't know how this got there, I…"

"…" A shadow passed over the Egyptian's face before he looked up and into the boy's eyes. He starred for a long moment, what seemed like hours, and his lavender eyes locked his chocolate, "Where are you going today?"

"… I don't know…" His eyes showed more than confusion. He blinked and looked back towards the other side of the street, where he was heading a few minutes ago. "I-I don't know where I'm going. Malik. I'm…"

"Come here." He grabbed onto the teen's arms with his hands and pulled him close, up to where they were behind a tree close to the street. When he was sure no one was around or listening, he continued, "Whatever you've done, whatever you were going to do, I want it to stop, right now. I know you. And I know how you feel sometimes, trust me, but this is not the way… Go home. What I need for you to do is go home, I'll come with you. I'll stay with you all night if you want, but you need to go home. You can't be out here." He let out a breath, letting go of one of his hands and reached down, feeling the tip of the rusty screwdriver, running his fingers over it and shuddering, "We need to go to your house, alright?"

"B-But…"

"It's okay." Malik let his eyelids droop and his forehead touched his friend's, "We'll make sure that nothing happens to anyone and certainly not to you… I won't tell…"

His eyes widened as he drew away just a little, his hands still being held softly. "You don't understand, I… I'm doing this for someone…"

He gripped his wrists tighter, "What are you going to do?"

"I don't know!"

With that last cry, he broke away fully from the other teen's grasp and ran down the sidewalk and across the street, despite the heavy traffic. Horns blew, shouts made the air heavy and trees blurred around him as he ran and continued to do so even though he hard his name again and again.

It seemed like days before he stopped running. He could've sworn the moon came out, but it didn't and it was only minutes when he fell, panting to his knees and gasping for breath.

_Why did you lie to your friend like that, sugar? Why betray the one who cares for you with lies and deceit?_

"I didn't lie!" He cried out, eyes still closed and still hunched over with his hands on his knees, "I-I don't know what's happening, I don't know where I am… Please…"

_I care about you, too, sugar. Keep that in mind while you pretend not to know anything…_

"…" He'd finally obtained enough oxygen in his lungs to stand and lift his head to find he knew where he was. To find he knew exactly where he was and why he had left school. In front of him was a simple building, made up to be enticing to any teenager's eye, it was the Kame Game Shop. He'd been there a few times before. Seen a few rooms, watched a few videos with 'friends' and feigned laughter and happiness. Done as he was meant to do.

A feeling of dizziness fell over him as he walked up the path and stood at the front door with his eyes closed for a moment. He made a noise in the back of his throat and grabbed the doorknob, turning and opening it.

A bell rung above his head as he entered the store section of the building. Duel Monsters cards surrounded him suddenly and other games and guidebooks. He tried not to pay attention to them as he walked further into the place, his sneakers padding on the tiled floor. No one was at the counter. He sighed and put his hand on the wooden rail, steadying himself as he went up the stairs.

The carpet was much softer on the second floor, he barely made any sound going down the hallway. He could've not been there at all. He stopped at an oak door, deep brown wood almost making designs if you starred at them long enough. Lifting his fingers to the door, he felt the lumber's smooth yet coarse surface.

He smiled, sadly.

The door opened, but not by his hand and as soon as it had opened, a shrill shriek echoed from the boy who had opened it. He was about a foot taller than the boy who screamed and took a step back and fell onto his bed in the room and looked up, shaking and wheezing, grasping at his chest.

"R-Ry—"

"I'm sorry, Yugi… did I scare you…?"

"Yes!" He shouted, his large eyes narrowed as he moved his blonde bangs out of his eyes and back to meet his other, red and black locks of hair. He stood shakily from the bed and lifted his head more. It was then that he noticed all the tearstains on Yugi's face, running in different directions all coming down to meet his chin. He sniffed, "I-I didn't even hear you come in. What're you doing here…?"

"… Where's your grandfather, Yugi?"

He tilted his head and rubbed his red eyes with his sleeve, turning around, "He went to the store."

It was quiet for a few minutes until sniffles started and Yugi turned away and walked to the head of his bed, sitting and trying to get himself to stop. He looked over at the crying boy and immediately heated when he had seen the picture on the bedside table. The beautiful frame, the delicate curves and details on it and the horrid, ghastly picture inside. Brown hair whipping around her face, she looked off the other way and wasn't aware of the photographer taking her picture and admiring her face, her body, her curves.

Yugi sobbed.

He growled under his breath and balled his fists, "She was a _slut_!"

"…" Suddenly, the boy turned his head up to his companion who had just blurted out what the whole world needed to hear. His eyes were wide and tears still ran down his face as he croaked out, "T-That's not true, you don't know what you're talking about!"

"I know more than you think I do." His voice dripped venom as his chocolate eyes deepened into a cherry, chocolate color, bright and jagged. Seconds later, he took in a sharp breath and his eyes widened again, turning back into those same doe eyes that he always wore. Looking around, frantically, he groaned and held onto his head with one of his hands, rubbing his temple, "I-I…"

"… What's wrong?" He heard that familiar voice coming up to him, closer and full of sincere concern. "C-C'mon, you can… you can tell me what's wrong."

He cried out as his headache worsened. "No, please…!"

"What's wrong?" The voice was more urgent now as Yugi grabbed his hand and looked at him.

In one motion, he pushed the smaller one away with enough force to land him back on the bed. He immediately recovered from the blow and looked at his companion with wide, asking eyes. Before anything could be said, he reached into his back pocket and grabbed his screwdriver, taking it and throwing it onto the floor in front of Yugi as he yelled something unintelligible.

"What…?"

"Kill me now or I swear I'll kill you!"

--

_I had a bad dream last night… I-I think you were in it._

_Oh, really? That's nice to hear, you dreaming of me… Was I sweet to you in this dream, sugar?_

… _You… didn't say anything…_

_Then what did I do?_

_You smiled at me… _

_Oh, sugar, that wasn't a dream. I'm smiling at you now…And I will continue to smile at you, for as long as we are together…_


	5. Devotion

Disclaimer: I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh.

Warning: Character deaths, may contain disturbing themes. Rating may change.

Her Sweetness: Thank you for your awesome reviews, guys! Happy reading!

* * *

— A Few Small Repairs—

Devotion:

_S-Something's happening to me!_

_I've known that for a while, sugar. Why are you so surprised?_

_Please… please, help me…_

_I can only watch, sugar._

_What…?_

_All I can do is watch, until…_

--

Wind whipped harder outside, in following with the darker clouds forming. They circled around the sky as the earth moved beneath them, balling and running into one another as they continued to circle and grow. Grow and grow but never break, never open and let the rain fall. But as the leaves on the trees shook and shivered, patiently awaiting the rain soon to come, they were silent. And so was the world.

Yugi sat on the edge of the bed where he had been pushed not a moment ago by his companion. His lips were trembling as was the rest of his body as he looked onto the peach colored carpet. Its pure and creamy texture was untouched by stains as he'd never dropped anything. Vacuumed everyday. Only drank water in his room. The carpet was beautiful. But there was something staining it now.

An awful tool, rust covered every inch of the head and dried, invisible spots of blood on the handle, its black stripes going up and down on a yellow background. His eyes were clouded over with tears though they did not fall as he turned his head from the tool on the floor, starring at his companion who was in the corner, shaking and holding himself, his arms wrapped securely around his own torso as he screamed continuously.

He was hunched over, his forehead coming down to meet his knees, his face was red, tears continued to fall one after another in a pattern as he screamed at Yugi again and again when he felt nothing and saw the boy doing nothing but starring at him. He jerked his head up, his mouth contorted into a smirk and a frown as he shouted yet again, "Didn't you hear me? Do it, now, Yugi! You will not get another chance; I'll make sure of that! No…! Ah, _please_!"

He grasped his hair and fell onto the floor, chocking and coughing. He curled up into the corner and almost shrunk into the wall, shaking his head and whispering to himself, reprimanding himself, loving himself. A moment passed and time almost stood still. Not a word was spoken, and the only thing that could be heard was quiet sobbing from the corner.

"… Please…" Yugi gently stood up, letting the bed make a small bouncing noise from the relief of no more weight. He took a step and got no further as poisonous words stopped him.

"You're making a mistake. Don't come any closer, Yugi."

The shaking had stopped, Yugi noticed, this made him think twice. The shuddering, the crying had all stopped. The teen's back was still to the room and his blue uniform was wrinkled, he noticed also. There were so many things in that instant that he noticed about his longtime classmate and 'friend' and the confidant whom he never told anything to. So many things. For instance, he wore a ring on his right hand. And how shiny his hair was. And how thin he was… malnourished, even. So many things.

"Please. Can we talk…? I-I'm sorry if… if I've upset you, I just…" He took another step. But he didn't move, didn't speak. Yugi unknowingly stepped on the screwdriver; feeling it under his foot, he lifted his leg and his gaze flickered from the tool to its owner. To its owner who had seemingly stopped all functions. "_Please_." He repeated, waiting for a reaction.

A motion was made. He stretched out, balling his fists and stretching them towards, the door and keeping his legs tucked under himself. No sound was made as his pale hair slid down the side of his back and fell to the floor as he rolled over, hair being tucked behind him. His bangs hid his chocolate eyes, but Yugi felt his coffee orbs starring right into his amethyst. His hand held up his head as his other made small circles in the carpet, moving round and round in the same small oval, etching it with his fingernail.

His mouth was a thin line, fractured and smiling and frowning and smirking all at the same time as the line formed a small circle and closed again, opening and closing, moving in different directions, sometimes teeth would flash or a candy pink tongue.

Yugi watched his mouth, heard his words, didn't move, couldn't take his eyes away from this new person. These new mannerisms that were not those of his companion's, this new mindset, these new words.

"Yugi…" Those lips moved again, "Yugi, you couldn't do it, could you? You couldn't kill me? You didn't _have_ to kill me, you know… you could've run… could've run for help and told everyone that a madman was in your house, threatening you… could've told them that _Tea's_ madman had come to…"

A sharp intake of breath was all he could produce at that moment. Yugi's eyes widened and his lips trembled, his fists shaking as he took a step back. A whine that wasn't meant to be heard was spilled out of his throat, followed by a sob. He took another step back, "W-Why?"

The teen stood up, not wasting anytime in taking two steps foreword to the boy who was almost falling back onto the bed now, his whole body quivering in contrast to his body which was composed and moving stoically across the room.

"It's so easy to ask questions, isn't it, Yugi?" He spat, taking another step and watching with slight amusement as the boy fell backwards and scrambled onto the bed, trying to escape. He bent down slightly were Yugi once stood and picked something up, rising again and carelessly twirling the tool between his fingers. "It's so easy to be a victim, isn't it? At least that's what you believe… because you think you've never been a _destroyer_, don't you?"

He sobbed again, backing up until his head hit the headboard and his companion grinned, baring pearly, gorgeous fangs and crawled onto the baby blue sheets after the boy, the screwdriver firmly grasped in his right hand.

"Well, let me tell you something, Yugi. You all have been destroying me for years now. And it's about time you knew what you were doing to me all along. While you were laughing." He was right up on the boy now, leaning his face into Yugi's while he trembled underneath him, whimpering as he could feel his companion's hot breath on his face. He almost buried his face in the crook of the younger boy's neck as he whispered, "While you each took pleasure in each other's bodies… I suffered. We suffered. And because of that, Yugi, you will receive nothing… but a secret…"

His head jerked up, his crying silent but loud, his eyes wet and dry. He mouthed, "What…?"

"Do you want to know my secret, Yugi?" His hands wandered across the boy's chest, playfully teasing the hem of his shirt and dragging the screwdriver's head in a circle on the skin above his heart. He smiled and purred into his neck, "My… my secret is that… I'm not Ryou."

The clouds turned faster and faster, spinning for the world that was still beneath them, looking up in awe and wonder as the grey sky pulled together into one giant cloud, veiling the sky and cloaking it in darkness. As everything boiled just above the surface, a lone raindrop fell and hit the window pane of a house, on a street, in a town. Beautiful, sad, pretty, time goes on and blood spilled and slid down on the other side of that rain splattered window.

A door to a Game Shop opened on a street and a boy stumbled out of it, his shoes splashing in a puddle just outside of the building. He quietly shut the door behind him as he stepped off the porch and looked up to the sky as raindrops fell down onto his skin, seeping into him, sliding off of him, washing him from the place he had just come from. As he looked up, the rain noticed its drops were not the only sources of liquid on his face. They were accompanied by delicious, salty tears that leaked out from him.

"… What… what did I…"

_Mmm… Oh, sugar, you have no idea how good that felt. Or… heh. Or maybe you do know how good it felt. Did you like it? Did it make you feel inside as it did me?_

He starred out into the mist that was created by his lover's happiness and tenderness, whispering to himself as he walked out into it, his eyes blank and tears running down his cheeks to mix with the raindrops.

_What's wrong? You seem so sad, sugar. And I thought this was what you wanted? It was, wasn't it? _

"I-I never wanted to kill Yugi…" He whispered to himself as he continued through the rain, others giving him strange glances as they passed him by with their umbrellas and ponchos, going into their warm houses while he was barely clothed in proper attire and trudged around in the weather, his lips moving but no one around, "I never wanted to kill Yugi, he did nothing wrong, he… he wasn't like—"

_Like who? The others? Tea, perhaps? Well, let me tell you something, sugar. He was in love with her, was he not? Oh, let me rephrase that. Those urchins don't know what 'love' is… He was in lust with her. And that makes him just as bad as her, do you not agree? And besides…You did this for the best. Why did you do it, sugar?_

He sobbed, choking it back and took in a deep breath, looking up into the sky and relaxing, slightly, letting his shoulders drop, "To… cleanse the world… Make it pure. Taking the dirty ones away so…"

_So?_

"So we can be together…" He said through more rain. His tears had been consumed by the rain that had become a waterfall since he stepped out of that building and headed down the street. The roads were being washed of all debris, old newspapers, candy wrappers, cigarettes and, just as the roads were being cleaned, so was he. "It's been so long since I last saw you…" The whisper kept getting lower and lower until he only mouthed the words, "I didn't think you were coming back. I-I didn't think you were coming back to see all that I had done… for you…"

The thunder clapped above him and sounded throughout the entire neighborhood, throwing out the power on a few streets and letting it flicker on the others. He walked out of the street and into the grass on the side of the road where a park was. The uncut weeds were slippery and wet, coming up to his knees and drenching his pant legs, though his clothes were already as if he'd just gone swimming.

Feeling an urgency to feel his lover's touches again after so long an absence, he stopped in the middle of a patch of grass and immediately started taking off his shoes, followed by his socks. This was the first time in nearly two days they were able to feel each other again, see each other, hear each other, and though he'd gone so much longer without the one he loved, this time he was desperate. During this day and a half, so much had changed, so many things needed to be done, needed to be figured out that there was one thing he valued and wanted more than anything else.

Following the jacket was the shirt. Both were cast carelessly onto the grass by a growing oak tree, both articles of clothing receiving limited amounts of rainwater to wash the bloody stains away.

His hands moved down to his belt and then his zipper, taking it down slowly and soon casting those away as well. Oh, if only his father could see him now. Wherever he was, whether on another expedition or in a whorehouse, he hoped his father knew that he was happy. He was happy when and only when he could be intimate with his lover, in private or public, it made no difference to him. Though, late at night when those hands touched his back and sweat coated his body; late at night, he wished the whole world would know about their love. And know that he would kill for his lover.

Blue lightning flashed in the distance and an echoed of thunder accompanied it as the rain pounded harder and harder on the world below, on the boy below, in the grass arching into the rain as it continued to pour into him. Soft moans escaped his lips and an intense blush covered his cheeks as another bolt of lightning flashed and its color echoed on his pale flesh, his skin glowing a passionate blue. The rain fell relentlessly, vigorously, painfully and bruised his body as he arched up again, screaming.

.0.0.

As the rain continued to fall, beating on the ground intensely, Malik looked up to the sky from under the awning of the house. Ever since the other day, he'd felt something strange. But, of course, what happened the other day _was_ strange. For as long as he'd lived in that neighborhood, no one was ever murdered. There was never anything like that in this sleepy little town where everyone was friendly, where everyone was sweet to one another.

But his friend never saw that. Malik knew how his friend's mind worked most of the time and all he ever saw of the world was an abomination. A disgusting, sickness that everyone had. No one was nice, from his friend's point of view. No one was sweet, no one was clean. To him, there was an incurable illness that everyone had and no one could cure. He wondered now if _he_ had that illness. If his friend thought _he_ was disgusting.

"… But… No, he doesn't… I-I'm like the only person he talks to… The only person he tells his true feelings to, he couldn't…" He looked away from the rain for a moment, fixing his eyes on the porch. He'd had enough of the rain for one day. It always made things look so dreary, so bleak when, in actuality, things weren't all that bad. He wished his friend could see that. His friend had an abnormal obsession with the rain, and though he loved his friend dearly, he had a right to say that the way he felt about this weather certainly was out of the ordinary.

He remembered one time when they were just sitting out in the park, talking around sunset. They were on swings, not really swinging but having fun and just enjoying each other's company. Sometime during their conversation, a raindrop fell on Malik's shoulder. He'd mentioned this to his friend and he'd looked up to the sky and whispered something and almost started crying.

Malik just didn't understand him sometimes though he always tried his hardest to accommodate him to the best of his abilities. And though he was a little odd and hated most of the world, Malik thought he was a magnificent person despite what some might call flaws.

But now there was this new thing.

This thing that his friend was acting so strangely about. Skipping school, and that screwdriver in his back pocket… He'd lied to himself all afternoon, telling himself that his friend couldn't have done what he thought he had. When he knew he had. And when he had run off, Malik hadn't been able to find him, though he tried. Going down street after street, calling his name. But after an hour, he decided that his friend would have to return home sometime. And so that's where Malik had gone to wait for him.

He jerked his head up, hearing a new sound other than the pounding of the rain. His eyes widened involuntarily as he saw his friend coming up the driveway with his clothes all bundled in his arms and his shoes, loosely on his feet. He looked up at Malik, his face pink and his breath ragged.

"H-Hello… Malik…" He smiled.

--

…_There's this new sensation I'm feeling…_

_What do you think it is?_

_I…I'm not sure just yet… It's something wonderful…_

_Do you sincerely believe that something so wonderful would come to you at a time like this, sugar?_

_I do. I sincerely do._

_Then there's something I've been meaning to tell you…_


	6. In This Moment, I

Disclaimer: I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh.

Warning: Character death, may contain disturbing themes. Rating may change.

Her Sweetness: Howdy. So, here's another chap, this one was fun to write. Enjoy.

* * *

—A Few Small Repairs—

To Be Alive:

"_Wake up."_

_Slightly parted, pink lips opened wider in this moment and chocolate eyes fluttered open. The process of breathing started again, but slowly and soon became more rapid, a pale chest going up and down, though the motion couldn't be noticed from afar. As the chocolate eyes opened even wider, now coming to their true potential, he felt as if his vision were blurred or maybe he was laying face down into a pillow. All he saw, felt and heard was darkness._

"_Wake up, sugar."_

_Groaning almost, he weakly sat up, using his forearms to raise himself from the nothing beneath him. Looking down and up and from side to side, there was nothing but shadows. No life, no people, no nothing. But there was something extremely familiar about the shades of gloom around him. And for the first time since opening his eyes, he felt something in the air. Heat. Sweltering heat, forcing him to sweat, forcing his shirt to cling to his torso. _

_He tilted his head all the way to the side, letting it rest on his shoulder. He whispered into the nothingness, "Where are you?"_

"_I'm right here, sugar. I've always been right here."_

_Suddenly, he gasped and leant foreword, his limp strands of hair touching his knees. There they were again. He felt those hands on his back, both planted firmly on both his shoulder blades, warm and fiery. He looked back and saw no one, but knew who was there. Knew who was always there._

"_What are you doing…?" He asked, though was almost afraid of the response. _

"_Nothing," Now the voice was in his ear as it always was when he spoke. In his ear and hot breath trailing down his neck. The hands stayed in their place, "I'm doing nothing. You know, sugar, I really needed an excuse to see you like this… Tell me, do you ever remember anything I say to you? When you're asleep?"_

"…" _He stopped and thought for a moment. Thought back to when he was asleep, and those times were few and far between. When he was ever truly sleeping… He remembered hearing someone's voice during sleep. Someone telling him things, someone who was terrifying and sometimes comforting all in one breath. He remembered knowing that someone was there. Someone had told him something, "… Death…?"_

"_That's right." A chuckled rumbled from the voice, a short, clean chuckle that ended abruptly, "It's good to be remembered. What else do you remember?"_

"_I remember…I remember your hands. And your smile."_

_He hastily turned around and those warm hands immediately came away from his back and latched onto both the teen's hands, holding them lightly and somewhat protectively. The teen's eyes widened as he starred off into darkness but knew that someone had to be right in front of him. He lowered his voice, "D-Do… do you have a face?"_

"_Yes. I have a face."_

"…" _He fidgeted for a moment before looking around and leaning in, keeping his eyes to the side, keeping his eyes away from the speaking nothing, "Could you show it to me?"_

_Even though nothing was said, he heard something, a reply. But the reply could not be made out and he drew back a little from the hands that still held his, wondering for a moment if he had perhaps asked the wrong thing. He didn't want to anger what he couldn't see. And before he knew it, the hands drew away from his own, and he heard a whisper._

"_If you promise not to scream, I'll show you who I am."_

"…_Ah…" His bottom lip quivered and he nodded slowly, halfway shutting his eyes, scarred that if such a request by the voice could be made then maybe his face, his appearance, was horrible beyond imagining. An entity that would surely make even the bravest of men scream. But then, that's what Death is, isn't it? No matter who or what you were, nobody wanted to die and everybody avoided Death as best as they could. Death was what everyday people feared above everything else. Death was what ended their pathetic lives, ended what they considered loving, ended everything and in turn began again._

_He opened his eyes._

_In a matter of seconds, his chocolate orbs starred straight into chocolate cherry eyes. Shoulder length silver hair almost masked those eyes, but he could see them clearly. A pale face and pink lips, slightly curved in a lazy smirk; lithe body and the same features if only a tad bit sharper. He'd say he was starring into his own eyes if he didn't know himself to be sitting down before this look-alike. _

"_You didn't scream." Death's smirk only grew wider, his eyes dancing in a delighted fire, "I'm proud of you, sugar. I only did this because you asked me to… But then again… maybe I would've done it anyway." He was crouching down in front of the other boy, on his knees with his hands both planted on each. Standing now, Death looked down at the teen whose eyes showed nothing but confusion._

_He knitted his brows together, "W-Why do you look like that?"_

"… _I don't know what you mean. I look like you, sugar, I'm aware of it. You seem to be the only one shocked by it… But why does this surprise you? I told you before, and I suppose you didn't understand what I meant." Death seemed to be enjoying the puzzled stages the young teen's eyes were going through. He seemed not to remember quite as much as Death had previously thought._

"_I'm only a shade of you." He grinned._

_A sudden, abrupt shout echoed, "But what does that mean?"_

_Death looked at his look-alike for a moment, with his blank, emotionless eyes. He took a step back and kept stepping until he was a good ten feet away, smiling. "Stand up, sugar."_

"…" _He looked down, surprised to see himself still sitting on the nothingness. Somehow, he thought he'd already been standing. He used his forearms to try and lift himself, but he was still sweating and weak from all the heat. It was hard to breathe. "I-I can't… It's really hot…"_

"_Is that a fact? Well, then, I suppose I'll just have to change that." A smirk graced his lips as he turned around and with him, went the darkness. Each blotch or pool of ebony streaked by the teen and flew past Death, leaving a soft and familiar feeling under the boy's skin. He looked down and held in his breath for a small moment before he let it out and blinked, realizing he was sitting down in soft grass._

_Jerking his head up, he saw a thick forest of trees surrounding him on all sides, large trees with trucks wider than what he could've put his arm around. Rays of sunlight maneuvered through the lush, green leaves and left traces of daylight on his pale face that was now confused and befuddled all at the same time. _

_He spoke without realizing it, "How did you…?"_

"_How did I what?" Death's voice seemed to be coming from no where and everywhere all at the same time, but most of all, from right behind him. He gasped and whirled around, now having found the strength to stand up and found himself looking into that face again. Death smiled, taking a step forward, "You mean how did I create this? Well, I control everything here, sugar. Everything. You do know where we are don't you?"_

"_N-No…"_

"_We're right here." He took another step and touched right in the center of the boy's forehead with his index finger, causing his young look-alike to flinch. _

"_In my… in my head? We're in my mind?" He asked, watching with both eyes the finger that still loitered on his soft skin. "But why…?"_

"_Because this is where everything lies, sugar. This is the beginning and the end. You, right here. Your thoughts, your hopes, your desires… and your dreams. Because that's really what this feels like, doesn't it? Like you're dreaming?"_

"… _A little. But it feels… kind of real in a way. A-Are you a dream… Death?"_

"_Maybe." Death finally lifted his finger and looked up into the sky, watching as small dots, insignificant creatures, flew by. He walked around behind the other, letting his eyes drift around the young body that was close to identical to his own. The boy watched his every move until he was directly behind him, "And maybe not. But if I was a dream, just keep in mind that I'd be yours."_

_The boy remained still._

"… _Tell me something, sugar. Have you been enjoying all the rain we've been getting lately? I think you have… But, you know… Spring's almost over. It'll be summer soon. It'll be really hot then, there'll be minimum rain and even on days that it will pour, there'll only be a light drizzle. Not the rough pounding that you love so much. What will you do then, sugar?"_

"… _I…" _

_Though Death couldn't see his face, he knew his look-alike was on the verge of tears. He smiled and touched the boy's hands that were hanging down by his sides, lacing their fingers together and leaning forward, burying his face in the teen's snowy white hair, "You're so fragile, sugar. C'mon, now, don't cry… you cry to get out of things, but I want your answer. What will you do when the rain's left you?"_

_It was silent for a moment but Death didn't push. He knew there was only a certain amount of prying needed before the boy broke down, "I-I don't know what I'll do! I don't even want to think about it!" He gripped Death's hands harder though Death barely felt it, "I don't want to think about how it'll be when I'm all alone!"_

"_But, sugar, baby, honey…You're not alone. You'll never be alone." He smirked and bared his lustrous daggers, his face becoming more and more feral as he whispered into the boy's ear, face still hidden by the silver locks._

_He sobbed, "I know…"_

"_And why will you never be alone, sugar?"_

"_Because I-I have… I'll have Malik…" _

_The small sobs continued even though the boy found comfort in his words. He knew that Malik would never abandon him no matter what he's done or said. Death, on the other hand, clenched his teeth together, grinding them and finally groaned into the boy's hair, fisting his hands and forcing a small yelp of pain out of the other._

"_Y-You're hurting me…!"_

"_I know, baby…"_

"_Ah… L-Let go!" He twisted himself out of the other's grasp and stumbled backwards, turning to face him. The boy's face was pink and ragged breath came from his equally pink, parted lips. Though he said nothing, his eyes were wide and his eyebrows knitted together. The question was posed._

_Death racked a hand through his own silver locks, revealing once again those eyes, the color of dirty blood. His voice was venomous, "Allow me to answer my own question. I know what you'll do when the rain stops. You'll loose it; every single piece of sanity you ever had will fall away and nothing will be left but you and that screwdriver. Soon he'll see how dangerous you really are and as soon as he realizes there's no saving you, he'll go straight to the authorities. Do you know where you'll end up, sugar?"_

_The boy's breath came faster and shorter._

"_Under the ground. In some cell far away, they'll lock you there and when it does rain, you won't even hear it!"_

"_No! Shut up, shut up! Malik would never do that to me!" He was straining to fight back the tears but they were already flowing and had been for ages, "Malik's my friend, he's my best friend and he loves me! I'm not dangerous!"_

"_Mmm, but that's why I like you." His grin returned and he sauntered across the measly five foot distance to his distraught and teary-eyed look-alike who wanted desperately to back away but could do nothing but stand there as Death grabbed one of his hands with his own and roughly wrapped his other arm around the boy's waist. He leant in and smiled in his ear, "You are dangerous. You're just this tiny, breakable doll that refuses to crack no matter how many times you get thrown against the wall. Stubborn, silent; you know what you want, sugar, and you'll kill you get it. There's just something irresistible about how your eyes light up before their eyes close for the last time… You deny it, but I know you love it. All this anger, all this pent up tension and you just want to release it on someone, don't you? But the rain… is the only one who can satisfy you, isn't that right?"_

"_You don't know what you're talking about…"_

"_I think I do…" He brought the boy's hand up to in-between their chests that barely grazed each other, "I'm just a shade of you, sugar. Everything that you hate, everything that you want to banish from this earth, I'm that. I'm the Death you wish upon someone every time you pass them in the hall, I'm in your dreams, your head, your heart. It's dark in your mind, sugar, and I am your gloom."_

_He shivered and whimpered under the soft caresses that Death was giving his back, his chest, stomach; barely touching every part of his body, but touching it in the right way to make him hold back screams. He gasped as Death rubbed the small of his back in tiny circles, "Stop it…! I-I want to go, I just want to wake up!"_

_Death did stop his touches for a moment and drew back a little to get a better look at that gorgeous face, "Malik will betray you. I only tell you this because if you don't listen, you will be hurt in the end. And I want us to finish what we started."_

"_I don't kill for the reasons you do! I'm only helping!"_

_A low chuckle passed Death's lips again as he looked at the trembling boy in amusement, "Stubborn… I love it. Sugar, you know what we have to do, don't you? Malik has to go… but don't worry, sugar. I'll do most of the work."_

_His eyes widened immensely and he pushed Death away, shouting now and almost all his tears had been depleted, " No! I won't let you! I swear it, you can't do this, you can't! I won't let you harm the only person who loves me!"_

_Suddenly, darkness came back in giant streaks. All the grass, all the soft wisps of wind that blew through their hair was gone. The trees deteriorated around them and piles upon piles of ebony shadows replaced them, putting them back in that same place, hot and sticky and the teen, now backed by nothing, fell to the darkness with a thud and winced at the pain._

_Death seized this opportunity and got down on the boy, straddling his hips and forcing his head to the side with only one hand, grinning madly and insanely as his look-alike sobbed and tried to get out from the painful position he was now trapped in._

"_I won't let you do it!"_

_He smiled, "Relax, sugar_—_" _

"_You can't…"_

"—_After all… it's only a dream."_


	7. To Be Alive

Disclaimer: I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh.

Warning: Character death, may contain disturbing themes. Rating will change.

Her Sweetness: What can I say? I got inspired. This is my first time writing like this, so please enjoy what I've written here. If you want this continued, I advise you to review.

…

— A Few Small Repairs—

What I Know:

_Can you hear me when I'm dreaming?_

_Yes._

… _What do I dream of?_

_Me._

_And who are you?_

_Death._

--

The wind whipped through the trees. Bare branches collided into the school's windowpanes and the scratching of the twigs on glass was a small disturbance in the background to the teenagers in the classroom. Their high-pitched voices and gossips and the teacher's clicking of his mouse by the computer in the corner. Florescent lighting made it so that, even though the weather outside was dreary, grey and unpleasant, the classroom seemed normal and calm and filled with laughter.

Teenagers were in the center of the room. Most of them. Others were either skipping classes or in the other corners of the classroom being fondled and kissed and caressed by their temporary lovers.

"…" A sigh escaped the pale lips of a teenager who hadn't gotten up from his seat. Who wasn't speaking. Who wasn't gossiping. Who had no lover. His head was placed on the desk, his cheek pressed against the desktop and his pale, limp hair falling all around him. He looked out to him classmates with dark, chocolate eyes. To anyone those eyes said nothing but warmth, sympathy and innocence. To anyone, those eyes could belong to a child.

But despite the fact that they were beautiful, accompanied by a beautiful face, beautiful features, those eyes were empty and stoic. They were blank. Deep chocolate voids, not filled with warmth, sympathy or innocence, but with confusion and malcontent.

His hands hung limply at his sides, all the blood rushing down into his hands from sitting this way since class began, an hour ago. He sighed again, this time a bit louder. As if trying to get the classes attention, but at the same time, not wanting it. He'd refuse it if anyone tried to come over, to greet him or be friendly.

Of course, he'd never say anything spiteful or nasty. Nothing mean. He wasn't raised that way. He was meant to love, be loved and look at the world with nothing but content. And that is what he had done for _sixteen years_.

His eyes narrowed a bit, now watching one of the loudest ones in the classroom. A brown-haired girl in the center of six teenage boys, giggling and pretending to be shy about them touching her but all the time her eyes showed that she wanted it. Wanted it badly and would welcome any one of them to take her.

'Filthy slut.' He thought, eyes closing after he'd seen one of the boys outmaneuver the others and manage to catch her interest the most. He'd taken her by the arm and they went to the back of the classroom to the utility closet and shut it behind them. The girls in the room giggled and the boys either pouted or praised their comrade amongst each other, wishing for a brief moment that they were him.

'Filthy, filthy slut…' He moaned and turned around, his blank, loving, hating chocolate eyes facing the windows.

The branches of the trees hit the windowpane again and he tilted his head upwards, looking at the cloudy, grey sky. It was apparent that rain was coming, on its way and he only felt comfort in this. Rain. He loved it. Was in love with it. Rain was his only friend, his only confidant. Rain was the most gorgeous thing in the world to him. Because it was clean. Rain was the essence of cleanliness and decency. And, has he'd always been told, cleanliness is next to godliness.

Rain washed everything away. Sins. Curses. Dirt. Mud. Rain washed it all away, took it all from the world and let people start off with a wonderful, clean slate. But some did not take advantage of rain's generosity. Like his 'friends'. Like his classmates. Like his teachers, neighbors… Like people.

Now bumping could be heard in the back of the classroom, from inside the closet. The sounds of mops being knocked over or buckets or something that the classroom used. Moans followed and grunts. The classroom turned into a fit of giggles and 'ooh'ing.

He clenched his eyes shut, 'Disgusting, filthy… Why? Why? Why are you people like this? It's disgusting, please stop… Please…'

The very thought of what they were doing sickened him. He wanted to disappear, not to hear those sounds anymore, not to hear anything anymore. All he wanted was for them to stop. In dismay, he looked back at the teacher's desk as he continued to play solitaire on his computer. At least that's what the class had always believed.

But he knew better.

He'd seen it once. He'd wanted to ask the teacher a simple question and quietly walked behind his desk, about to tap him on the shoulder, but stopped. On the screen was a black page with naked women and obscene pictures and he'd dropped his pencil and gone out of the classroom. He couldn't take it anymore.

But now the teacher was back at his desk, back there doing only what one student knew.

'People are awful…' He turned back to the window, 'People are so horrible… They truly are… And to know… to know that I'm one of them, one of their kind! To know that I am just like them, just like every one of them… Or I… have the capacity to be. B-But… But I… I am…'

A lightning bolt stuck close by and the lights in the entire school flickered before they came back on. The teenage girls screamed, being dramatic. The teenage boys made their move. The teacher clicked again on his mouse.

He cringed and clinched his fists.

'Rain… Wash us. Make us good again. Make us sweet and kind and pure again. Make us clean.'

In less than five minutes, after repeating those words in his head, the first drop hailed from the heavens and the second drop followed, sliding down the windowpane. Sliding right in front of his face. And, for this brief moment, saving him.

The closet door opened abruptly. The girl stumbled out, her brown hair in a mess and sweat running down her back. The boy falling out after her, a stupid grin on his face. To the girls, he was hot. To the boys, he was a hero.

To him, he was dead.

'W-Wash him… Please…'

For years, he'd been wishing for rain to wash these people, save them and make them good again. But it hasn't happened. Rain had done so much for him, but it seemed that everyone else stayed the same. Or got worse. Got so bad that not even rain could save them.

It had always been a sad thought. It crept into his mind every now and then. The thought that not even his 'friends' could be saved. They were filthy, too. They were very filthy and though no one else saw it, he did.

The bell rang suddenly and motions happened, as they always did. He no longer did anything anymore. It was all a motion. He would immediately go down stairs and fetch his homework or text books and leave. And as he stood under the awning of the school's courtyard, he watched as two sweethearts kissed each other goodbye and went their separate ways.

He crinkled his nose and thought, 'Idiots…'

The other students either called for a ride or got out their umbrellas and trudged through puddles and concealed potholes.

He stepped out into the rain and walked down the street.

It ran down his uniform, soaked into his hair and the books he was carrying. And he loved it. He loved every drop that fell onto his cheek, every bead that he managed to catch with his tongue. He loved it all. The rain was gorgeous this day and this was why he liked spring so much. It always would rain in spring. Always.

Not only did he love the fact that rain was cleansing him, making him clean, washing his body from being around those filthy barbarians, but… It just _felt_ so damn good.

Looking up as it fell on his face full force, he almost moaned. Nothing and certainly no one could make him feel like rain. Rain felt better than any lover. Rain tasted better than any lover. Rain tasted wonderful. He imagined that this was how others felt when being intimate with their boyfriends or girlfriends. Rain tasted like ecstasy. Rain tasted like power. Rain tasted like making love between sweat-stained sheets.

He could've let rain take him then and there.

But as his motions led him up the sidewalk to his home, and as he'd opened the door, he looked back up at the rain, forlornly.

'I'll be back again…' he thought as he entered.

The house was warm. A little too warm. He must've left the heater on before he left in the morning. Hearing the thunder and rain continue outside, he dropped his school supplies on the couch and walked briskly into the kitchen, plopping down at the table.

He arranged himself like he'd been at school. Face down on the table, cheek pressed against it, arms hanging down at his sides. And him facing the window and the rain. Teenagers were still walking down the streets, the sidewalks, going towards their homes. It wasn't ten minutes longer before a couple walked by, using an umbrella to shield themselves and hold hands in what the believed to be peace.

Ryou clinched his fists.

"Something needs to be done."

--

_Your name is Death?_

_No, I _am_ Death._

_How can one… be… Death…?_

_Ask yourself._

… _What?_

_Ask yourself how one can be Death. You may find you already know._


	8. Someone To Rescue Me

Disclaimer: I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh.

Warning: Character deaths, may contain disturbing themes. Rating may change.

Her Sweetness: Late, I know. Try to ignore it.

* * *

—A Few Small Repairs—

Someone To Rescue Me:

Malik was worried.

Worried, verging on the point of being afraid. He remembered being on the couch with his companion in his arms; the boy had fallen asleep there and he had ended up resting his head on his chest and they fell asleep together. He wasn't sure how long they had stayed like that but less than a moment ago, the pale teen fell to the floor in a fit of convulsions. He began to retch and scream and yell something over and over again, though Malik could not make out this word.

Since that very second, he had jumped on the floor, trying to shake his friend out of what appeared to be a nightmare, but what seemed to be so much worse. Malik grabbed his wrists and pinned them above his head and shook his shoulders with his free hand, all the while shouting his name so that he might possibly wake up.

He turned his head to the other side and moaned, arching his back up and screaming again, this unintelligible word. Malik called his name again and the convulsions stopped outright. He was left with a bit of shivering and was sweating profusely, muttering that word still over and over, sometimes Malik could make out, "Please…"

"Ryou… Ryou, wake up, c'mon." He slowly let go of his hands and moved both of his to the teen's cheeks, cupping his face and whispering, "Ryou."

Suddenly, his head snapped forward and his eyelids shot apart, revealing trembling, coffee brown eyes that screamed in their silence. Malik drew back, almost completely off the boy as his friend sat up and shouted at him, "O-Oh, Gods, please stop! Please, don't!" He grabbed himself, wrapping his arms around his own torso and cringed, doubled over and bringing his legs up to his chest, "Don't hurt him, I'll do anything!"

"Ryou!" Malik called, crawling up to him and shaking him yet again by the shoulders, trying to shake him out of his waking nightmares, "Ryou, calm down!"

He almost threw himself into Malik, now sobbing and screaming so loud that only a few words if any could be made out. The teen grabbed the tan teen's arms and jerked his head up so that they were looking in each others eyes, though one set didn't look as normal. He whispered harshly, but comfortingly in Malik's ear, "I will never let him hurt you."

"Who are you talking about?"

A gasp and a scream echoed from the boy's throat as he retched, "You're not going to hurt him! I'll never let you hurt him, he's my friend! He's my only friend! Malik's not leaving me!"

_You don't really have a choice, sugar._

"Yes, I do! I've always had a choice! You won't hurt him! Ah…!" He winced and cringed in pain as the throbbing in his head pounded harder and the storm outside raged on. The power in the whole neighborhood was still out and in the dark, Malik grabbed his shoulders again.

"Ryou, listen to me! I don't understand what you're talking about, but no one's going to do anything to me, I'm always going to be right here!"

He clenched his eyes shut, "He's going to kill you! Can't you hear him?"

"There's nobody here!"

"H-He's… right here…" He sobbed, tiredly and winced, "Malik, can't you hear him…?" It was apparent that the pale boy was worn out. It was apparent in the way he looked, the way he spoke, his throat was drying from screaming and his face was red from crying. Malik was on the verge of tears now at the aspect of his best friend being in trouble, needing help, and he couldn't do anything.

Malik could only repeat, "I can't hear anything…"

"Then listen harder!" He shouted before sitting up and crushing his lips to his friend's. There was a moment, a small millisecond or choke in time where nothing happened. Neither one of them moved and the earth stopped just for this one second. Then, after that small millisecond, after the earth took a breath… Everything started up again and the next thing the pale youth knew, he was aggressively fisting the Egyptian teen's hair and forcing a groan out of the boy. Malik's eyes flew open, lilac orbs going slightly back and forth showing that his mind was trying to make sense out of what was happening.

_Ooh, sugar, you just couldn't resist, could you? _

Suddenly, the tanned boy pulled back, holding his hand over his mouth loosely and looking worriedly at his companion who seemed in some kind of daze, his eyelashes fluttering open and lightly chewing on his bottom lip.

He gasped, "Who said that…?"

The paler of the two smiled sadly and gripped at his chest, wincing, "Y-You could hear…" He muttered before a sudden scream ripped from his throat and he fell back to the carpet as his eyes dilated and rolled back in his head, the rest of his body shaking and his hands clutching at the ground, scratching at the rug and leaving deep gashes.

Malik looked on in repulsion and terror as the boy's chest rose and rose until it was two. His legs followed and his arms; they all split, forming duplications of themselves and before Malik knew it, there were two bodies on the floor. Two bodies. Two boys. Two best friends and though all movements had ceased, no more quivers or convulsions, he was more terrified now that nothing was happening.

A moment passed of unbearable silence before he uttered a word, "R-Ryou?"

He directed this word at the first body. The body he knew was his friend. There was something unmistakable about his presence, somehow his body was distinguishable from any other. Lighter, more fragile or more beautiful, there was something unmistakable about him. The other body, as Malik looked at it, was a bit sharper. And though that body wore his friend's garments and though that body had the same hair and face and colors, there was something unmistakable about this one as well. And this new body… didn't look real.

Malik ran his tongue over his lips quickly, a nervous habit. He looked at his friend who was still and finally breathing normally. And then to this new body which seemed to be… dead, not breathing or living. No chest movements. He wondered if it had a heartbeat, a pulse.

He was soon on his knees and reached out one bronze, slender arm to the body that seemed almost transparent in it's soft glow. His hand stopped just short of the being's sliver hair and, taking a small breath, he closed the gap and lunged his hand foreword. It was intercepted. By the being's light and airy hand, it no longer felt light or airy as it gripped Malik's wrist tightly and made a swift movement, pulling the Egyptian teen up and over said body.

Before he knew it, he was looking at his best friend's face. His face… but not his eyes; no, these chocolate cherry eyes, these pools of filthy blood were never that of Malik's friend. That face smirked and flashed ivory fangs, "So this is that beautiful, blonde Egyptian I've heard so much about." He moved his free hand down to the bare skin on Malik's lower back while his other hand tightened on the boy's wrist.

"Agh… L-Let go…!" He groaned then as sharp nails dug into his back, trailing down and leaving swift yet painful gashes. He cried out as he was suddenly flipped on his back and starring up at lustrous, gleaming eyes. Malik winced, his purple eyes shutting almost as the pain on his back and wrist intensified, "W-Who are you?"

A smirk tore his features in half as he leant in and whispered, "I'm a good friend of Ryou's…"

Before Malik could react to the freezing temperature in the look-alike's whisper on his ear, he was roughly thrown off of the body and crashed into the hardwood coffee table in the center of the living room. The wood broke in half and the teen had a fair amount of bruises by this time though he hardly had anytime to notice them before his shoulders were grabbed again; beautiful and glossy nails dug into his skin, feeling his back being slammed into the wall on the far side of the room.

He felt dizzy and disoriented all at the same time. Things were happening so fast and, in his mind, it was a mere second ago when he had looked down at his friend sleeping on his chest and was thinking that maybe he could save the boy after all. He remembered thinking that something so rare should be held onto. But now as his vision blurred and he looked away from the rain that now drizzled on the patio and into the face of this demon, he thought that some things were harder to save than others. And that some things weren't meant to be saved.

Malik felt his eyesight blur and felt his eyes film over with tears as he looked onto the floor behind the broken and shattered coffee table, down at the broken and shattered boy. He didn't even move.

The look-alike was grinning and had been since he'd seen the look of pain and anguish on his new victim's face. But now as he witnessed those beautiful, lilac eyes straying away from his own, he turned his head and found him starring at the pale teen on the floor. A fire rose inside him as he whipped his head around and pushed his body up against Malik's, pinning him even closer to the wall as he leant in and spoke softly but harshly, "Listen to me and listen to me well for I will only say this once. _You_ are his crutch, his weakness. Without you, Ryou would have no doubts about what we should be doing and without you, he would be all mine. I will not let you cripple him, he's _mine_ to tear apart."

His head snapped foreword, cringing as the look-alike's grip tightened, "I don't know what you're talking about! But whatever it is, I know Ryou and he'd want no part of it!"

"Don't be an idiot." He was close to Malik now, too close for comfort. His right hand around the boy's neck, gripping it, and his other still digging into the boy's back with those nails, scratching the same spot again and again, letting rivers of crimson run down and pool into the small of Malik's back before running down his pants. The look-alike scratched harder, forcing a throaty yell from the victim. "You think you can save him, don't you? You think that he's worth saving, worth all this trouble… You have no idea what goes on in that boy's mind. But I do. I'm locked away with him during the night and days and I'm locked away with him in his dreams and nightmares, watching him cry and fight for his life. Every night, he prays to a false God for relief, for someone to save him. Do you think you can be his God? Malik?"

By this time, Malik wasn't sure how much more he could take and just before he felt himself ready to loose consciousness, the look-alike let go of his back and moved his hand, his bloody fingertips to the boy's mouth that was open and gaping, gasping for breath and air. Those slender, pale and translucent fingers traced delicately around the bronze teen's lips, going in a small circle as the look-alike nudged his forehead with his own, "Malik? Answer me, _Malik_. Will you save him?"

He choked, blinking through tears and his voice was raspy when he spoke, "I'd do anything…"

The clone smirked and tilted his head to the side, letting both hands come around the boy's neck and almost massaging it in a vertical motion. "Anything? Well, that sounds like a perfect answer. But is it true…? Would you really give up something valuable just for him?"

"D-Don't hurt him…"

"I won't. I'll never hurt him." He clenched his fists around that sun kissed neck and shivered, seeing the fading light in Malik's deep purple eyes as he struggled against the grip. "But it's a shame that you won't be here to make sure I'm keeping my promise."

As a bit more of the color drained from his face, Malik felt himself slipping and thought he was numbing around the neck; all he could feel was a grip that didn't shake. His eyelashes fluttered, blinking slower and forcing the tears that had settled in his eyes to run like crystalline rivers down his face and dropping to the carpet. Strength leaving his arms, he let go of his weak hold on the look-alike's forearms and let them hang at his sides. It must've been a hallucination when he heard that angelic voice.

"Let him go."

Suddenly the hands around his throat loosened and out of the haze that clouded his lavender eyes, he saw the look-alike starring backwards at the lithe, frail body that was standing in the middle of the room; beautiful, hazelnut eyes were looking up, sadly yet strongly as he repeated in almost a whisper much too sinister for that face, "Death, let him go…!"

His features softened as he tilted his head, "Sugar, I thought you were asleep."

"I won't let you hurt him, let him go!" The boy cried, taking a step forward. It was apparent that he was already worn out and it was apparent that he had no energy left for this. His white hair had since lost it's silver luster and was now hanging limply by his shoulders, framing his face as he cried, bending down and feeling around on the floor, still looking up at Death and the boy he held still.

Death shook his head, turning back to Malik who coughed, silky, blonde strands hiding his blood streaked face, "I can't. Sugar, you may not know what's best for you, but I do. I will always have your best interest at heart… _Our_ best interest." He had turned his back to the boy but was only like that for a second before hearing his call for attention and, whipping his head back to look at him, he stopped his advances on Malik and let go of him completely, dropping the teenager to the floor in an injured heap.

Malik's companion was standing with something in his hand. Something in his hand that was raised to his temple. That something with a black and yellow handle and rusty blood on the head, pushing slightly into the pale, flawless skin. The boy moaned, "Don't you dare hurt him or, I swear, I'll kill myself!" He sniffed, wiping his eyes with his free hand and giggling lightly, "You… you need me, don't you, Death? Without a body, can you really… hurt anyone? If I go, you go too, right? Y-You know I'll do it… I'm no use to myself. You said it yourself, when the rain stops, who will I live for? D-Don't hurt my best friend…"

He was mouthing words now. Malik was talking, but nothing came out and he wanted desperately to tell his friend to stop and drop the screwdriver. He wanted to tell him not to danger himself. But from all the screaming and clawing, he was too tired to even speak his name. They were both so very tired.

Death had long since dropped the boy and took careful steps across the carpet, stepping over the broken coffee table and making his way until he was standing right in front of him. Their eyes met, neither looked away or backed down and the only movement made was a sneer from Death, who looked at his look-alike in contempt, "You are very young, my love. Sugar." He looked back over his shoulder at the broken body on the floor who looked wearily back at him. Malik almost smiled.

"… It's never over." Was all he said before swiftly walking into the boy and disappearing into his body. A shiver came over him and he fell to the ground on his knees, shaking and coughing. It was a few moments as the albino got more of his strength back and he dropped the screwdriver, letting it roll across the floor and stopping at Malik's feet.

They managed to look at each other.


	9. Crashing

Disclaimer: I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh.

Warning: Character deaths, may contain disturbing themes. Rating may change.

Her Sweetness: It is the 23rd, ladies. And, as promised in my bio, everything will be updated today, please keep a look out.

* * *

—A Few Small Repairs—

Crashing:

Those gashes were deep. Bloody and raw and deep and they made Malik cringe whenever his friend touched them. Even though he was cleaning them, sanitizing them and bandaging the wounds, it hurt so much when his lower back was touched. All of the slashes ran from the right side of his lower back to the left side. They were each about the same size, about the width of a fingernail. Blood was splattered all over his backside and his pants had been drench in the blood as well, now not only streaks of crimson ran down his pant legs but rivers and streams, rushing.

He was so very lucky his companion was there. If not for him, he might've died from blood loss. If not for him, he'd be alone and scarred. If not for him, this would not have happened. Yes, he was so very lucky.

Malik was laying on his stomach on his companion's bed on the upper level of the house. It wasn't easy getting him up there as he could barely walk but once he was there, the boy began to take out peroxide and pour it over the Egyptian's back, and though the pain was intense, the after effect was cool and was soothing. The boy was careful, very, very careful as he bandaged the wounds. He wrapped the material around his lower back many times, softly and watched were his hands went, trying to avoid any unnecessary pain.

It was so quiet in that room. Not a word had been said since the incident downstairs and truthfully, both of them were afraid to speak, afraid to even breathe. That one question ran through both of their minds and so many fears that they shared, they refused to speak it.

Malik's head was on the side, facing away from his friend and towards the empty wall. He wanted desperately to look at the pale teen but then he knew he would have to talk to him, say something to comfort him. Maybe tell him everything was going to be okay. But how could he say anything like that when he wasn't convinced that it was true?

As he continued to wrap the bandages, his face continued to be masked by his dull-white bangs that hung in front of his eyes. His hands worked quickly and nimbly as if he'd done this a thousand times. As if he'd bandaged a thousand wounded friends. Wounded because of him and what lies inside him. He wanted to hold Malik so badly, wanted him to tell him that everything was fine, that he had forgiven him for what awful things he had created inside his mind and heart and had unleashed upon the world. All he needed were those soft, sweet words. He wanted to hear them, even if it was a lie. Even if nothing would ever be okay again, he just wanted that one simple lie.

His fingers tied the bandage tight. Tight, but not tight enough to hurt Malik. At least he hoped not. When it was all done, a beautiful, perfect bandage on top of horrible, ugly cuts and scrapes, the boy sat back and put his hands in his lap cautiously. It remained quiet as Malik kept starring at the wall and shadows covered both their faces. He pushed his silver bangs back and let his eyes wander up to Malik's blonde hair, a little messy but golden and starry nonetheless.

"I'm… I'm so sor—"

"D-Don't." The blonde teen's head rose and it drifted back down onto the sheets and pillows as he faced the boy who was already crying, streams running down his face and sniffles were heard. He looked up timidly at what Malik had just said. His eyes were a soft lavender and were melting under his own tears but he didn't let one fall down his face. He reached his hand out to touch the paler one that shook in the boy's lap and as he took his, lacing their fingers together, he continued, "It isn't your fault, Ryou… It really isn't anyone's fault."

He got down off of the stool he was sitting on and sat on the floor by the bed, never allowing his hand to break away from Malik's. He laid his head by his friend's and whispered through waterfalls that stained his face, "How can you say it's no one's fault…? H-How can you sit there and accept what's happened to you? How… how can you not _hate_ me…?"

Malik shook his head, managing to prop himself up with his forearms. He winced at the sharp jolt of pain from his lower back but tried not to let it show. The boy sitting next to him watched as his lips move to form the most incredible sentence, "Let it go, Ryou. It was never your fault, let it go."

"Please… Malik, please yell at me…" He sobbed harder, clinching his hand with Malik's and rubbing his hand up against his cheek, "Yell at me, tell me that you hate me and that you can't stand my face… Please… Make sure I never forget how much I hurt you and how much you suffered because of me…"

"You didn't do anything—"

"I created him!" He shouted, wide eyes starring up at the Egyptian, "I made that monster, he's part of me! I _hurt_ you! You can't pretend that it didn't happen… And please don't pretend that you could still care for me…"

"Ryou!"

"I can't control him! You shouldn't even be in here, it's dangerous, I don't want anything to happen to you, _please_ believe me… But I can't stop him, I can't promise that you'll be okay if you stay around me…" He let his hand slip from under Malik's and turned his head away. Silence smothered the room as the only sound was once again the boy's quiet sobs and sniffles as he stood and rubbed the back of his neck feverishly, mumbling, "W-When you get your strength back, promise me you'll leave…"

He received no verbal answer and when he heard sounds of the bedsprings bouncing and a small but painful grunt, the boy whirled around, confused to see Malik now standing though there was a streak of pain on his face from being in an upright position. Before his companion had time to object to Malik's activity, he grabbed both the boy's hands with his own and pulled him closer, his arms settling on the pale, lithe waist and leaning in so they were cheek-to-cheek. The boy muttered, nuzzling up to him unknowingly, "Where're you doing…?"

"Nothing." He whispered back, moving one of his hands up the boy's side and twirling locks of silver around it before letting go completely and taking a painful step back, "I'm going to leave now."

"… But… you, ah, you can't! You can't walk like that, I never meant for you to leave now!"

Smiling, Malik picked up his shirt from on top of the bed, trying not to bend too much. He straightened again and, while hiding the pain on his face, put it on. The cold, cotton material almost felt good on his back. He turned and started for the door and down the stairs. When the pale teen heard those footsteps and heard them getting further away, he snapped out of what could've been a trance and almost ran down the stairs and into the living room. Malik stopped opening the door when he called out, "Malik, don't—"

"Ryou. Tomorrow, I want you to meet me in the park, alright?"

"…" He looked at the tanned boy for a moment before shaking his head lightly and fidgeting with his hands, "I can't do that, Malik…"

"It doesn't matter what you _can't_ do. It's only a matter of doing it." Before the door closed all the way, he muttered, "See you there."

Starring at the wooden door, starring at it's small designs and splinters, he realized for the first time that the rain continued outside. Though it was not pounding like it had been earlier in the afternoon, he considered it beautiful. The darkness from night was a perfect background for the raindrops that came in groups, drizzling and splashing and dripping down the awning right outside the house. The stars were veiled in a mist and he wondered if his friend was going to get home alright. He looked down and even in the dark room he could see remnants of the most terrifying moments of his life.

The broken coffee table in ruins and wooden pieces that had broken off from it were scattered everywhere in the room, large and small pieces. The screwdriver… the screwdriver sitting innocently on the floor with rust covering it and spots of blood; _his_ screwdriver. And over by the television on the other side of the room were streaks on the beautiful, white wall. Long, dark and ugly and red streaks. Angry marks of blood that slid from the wall and pooled on the carpet, staining it for the moment and for life; even if he did manage to clean it out of the carpet, he wondered if it would still remain in his and Malik's hearts. He knew he was to blame for what had happened and even though Malik said (or pretended to say) that it wasn't his fault it was only because it had appeared as if he had saved him.

But that was all a lie, he told himself as he sat on the couch, curling up to the soft pillows beside himself. It was all a lie. When had appeared strong, he was weak. When he had appeared in control, he was lost. And when he had appeared brave, he was afraid, very, very afraid. The screwdriver to his head and the promise to kill himself and being so close to Death and it's affects on his friend. He never thought Death would have backed down so easily and if he didn't back down… if he _had _killed Malik, would he be dead right now? Would his promise to kill himself been followed through?

After all, he was human, too. And no human likes Death.

.0.0.

It amazed him how weather changed. Everyday, something different was happening with the weather. Whether it was sunny or snowing or… raining. It amazed him how it changed and never failed to surprise him and even though he was happiest when it rained, he was content when it was like this as well. When the sky was overcast with gray and bleak looking rolls of clouds, topping one another and masking the sun. It was days like this that gave him hope for something more. Something more than what he'd been receiving. But a moment after that thought entered his mind, he'd mentally slap himself for thinking such things. Despite everything that happened, there was one thing he had that _was_ something more. One thing that made everything else alright.

Which was why he was here.

In one of the most crowded places in all the city, in the park, he was standing and waiting for that one reason. And though he hated this place when it was like this, crowded and noisy, he remained standing under the large oak tree in the center of the place, looking for any signs of his reason. He had been here for maybe a few minutes already and what surprised him even more than the fact he came was the fact that he didn't think he stood out. He wore a dark blue jacket over a white t-shirt and jeans that fit him perfectly. And, looking around, he saw that several others had on similar outfits. But he stopped noticing them after hearing his name called in that voice that he'd grown so fond of.

He whirled around and gasped, finding himself with two bronze arms around his waist and starring into pools of soft lavender. Malik smiled, letting his hands drift slowly from the boy's waist and back down to his own sides. "Hey, Ryou."

"Hi…" He said, relaxing and leaning his head against the tree's bark and twirling a lock of his hair around one of his fingers lazily, "Are you… surprised that I showed up?"

Malik smirked, shaking his head, "No. No, I knew you would. I'm sorry I'm arriving a little late though, I had to pick up something… Have you been waiting long?"

"No. I just got here about five minutes ago myself." He let go of his hair and sighed, looking out at the green meadows beside them and how shiny it was; even in the early afternoon, signs of yesterday's storms were still in sight. He turned back to the teen, "Um… is there any reason you wanted to meet me here?"

Without replying, Malik took his friend's hand gently, not squeezing at all as he led the boy away from the center of the park. They walked back and into the small forest just in front of the lake where the trees were more numerous and lush. It seemed that spring was bringing a lot of things to life. The sun still remained hidden behind throbbing, gray clouds as they emerged on the other side of the trees right in front of a body of water, black rails surrounding most of it to prevent people from falling in. They stopped at the fence and Malik put his arms over it, his back to the water as the other boy stood there, looking out at it and then back to Malik with a confused look on his face.

He blinked and laid a hand on the ebony railing, letting his fingers rub against the rust on the tip of it. It had probably been there for a while, he guessed, the decay on it was turning an angry red color and the black paint was chipping off. He ran his fingers over the tip of it again, the rustiest part, letting it dirty his pale fingers and rub it's filthy exterior on him. He shivered, repeating his motions.

Malik tilted his head to the side a little more, almost craning his neck to get a better look at what it was his friend was occupying himself with. He was fully engrossed in the fence, in touching it and looking at it, but Malik had no idea why. It was times like these when he wondered what the boy was thinking. Times like these when he was quiet and looking at something with his face as it was now, stoic and the life from his eyes seemed to drain, that very sweetness and happiness that once shone through chocolate vats now turned to brown stones, brown water that ran deeper than could possibly be imagined.

As his finger ran over the top again, Malik put his hand down on top of the boy's, stopping the movement and his head jerked up, coming out of his trance. He removed his hands from the fence quickly and stuffed them in his pockets, looking away as if ashamed or embarrassed to be caught in his own world. His eyes darted to the water and then to Malik as he muttered, "I'm sorry."

He shook his head, "You've never had anything to apologize for, Ryou. Don't say your sorry when you haven't done anything." When nothing was said from the paler of the two, Malik lowered his voice, "I'm not mad at you, Ryou."

He nodded slowly and let out a breath, trying to calm himself. He'd been crying for days and he just wanted it to stop. He didn't feel like letting his emotions go out here where it was so calm, all he wanted to do now was be with Malik. He turned and let his eyes settle on his friend and the way he was standing. Blinking, the boy gasped, "Malik, your back! How can you…?"

Malik smiled once again and turned around, lifting his blue shirt and revealing ugly scars and stitches. When he heard a little whimper from his friend, he put his shirt back down and held the boy's hand, "It's okay… When my sister saw my back she rushed me to the hospital and they gave me stitches. So I feel better today and after a while, it'll be like it never happened. But… I don't want to talk about this right now… I want to talk about you now. Were you alright last night? Nothing… happened, did it?"

He starred at him for a moment before lowering his eyes, "You mean did he… No, I was left alone last night. I-I didn't even hear his voice."

"… You don't have to tell me if you don't want to, Ryou, but I'd really like to know what he does to you. What happens when you do hear his voice or if he… can come out of you like yesterday." Malik shook his head, scratching his neck and sighing, "I'm sorry, I don't really know what I'm asking anymore. W-What I wanted to ask is just if… if he hurts you…"

"…" He nodded and looked out towards the lake and up at the sky, "Hurt… he hurts me but… not physically. It's more like the things he says that gets me and the way he talks to me. He used to ask me questions that I didn't understand and I got angry that I couldn't answer… or wasn't able to answer. He tells me things like what I should do and I don't know why but it changes the way I make decisions… But the worst was yesterday when I was asleep. He told me that you… didn't care about me and that you would hurt me."

At this, Malik's eyes narrowed and he could feel himself getting warmer from the inside. He waited for the boy to continue. "He told me that you would abandon me and that the only person who truly cared for me was him… I think… he likes to irk me, make me mad so I'll cry or… H-He likes it when I'm mad… Makes it easier for him to take over. In my dreams, I can feel him touching me and I can hear him repeat that he's in love with me… But yesterday… it felt like he was raping me from the inside out, like he was ripping himself from me…" He stopped and swallowed hard, still trying to keep the emotions at bay and trying to be strong. He looked at Malik who's eyes were hidden with the shadows of gold. Whispering, he leaned in, "I never want to be hurt like that again."

Hours passed on that lake. And those two stayed there for those hours and it felt like they were the only ones there. With time they exchanged words rapidly and then there were long whiles of silence when they couldn't find anything to say. In the middle of talking there might've been a time when one began to cry and sobbed on the other, the other boy gladly holding him and whispering things that would not have been recognized by any other person on earth. When tear-stained confessions came out of the blue, they were mute and rung only in the ears of the other. Maybe, in those few hours, no one else was alive. Maybe, in those few hours, the world had died and there was only one thing each boy needed to survive. Food wasn't wanted, water was forgotten about and somewhere along the line, they lost themselves in each other's eyes.

By the time that the world started to spin again, the sun had come from out of the clouds and was red, throwing the rest of the sky into a cascade of orange and purple and it was well on it's way to leaving for the day, the water beneath it shining and waves splashed against the pier about thirty feet away from where they stood.

Malik looked towards the sun and squinted, gently easing the boy's arms from around his neck and smiling, "I have to go, Ryou, I promised my sister… Oh, but before I do, here." He dug into his back pocket and handed to the boy a small and white card.

He blinked, taking it and reading it silently for a moment before saying quietly, "A psychiatrist…?"

Almost beaming at him, Malik reached up and tucked a few loose strands of silver hair behind the boys' ear and nodded, "That's where I was today, I made to an appointment for you."

The boy's eyes were wide as his hands started to tremble, the little card shook in the same rhythm. He shook his head slightly and said, almost disbelievingly, "I… You think I'm crazy?"

"What? No, Ryou, that's not what this is about! It's about getting you help!" Malik held the boy's shaking hands and steadied them, bringing them closer to his chest, "You said yourself that you never wanted to be hurt like that again. Ryou, I don't want anything to happen to you, I've only ever wanted to help. Please say you'll go, I'll go with you. I'll be right next to you, just… _please _go, Ryou."

After looking in lavender for a moment or two, brown eyes lowered and he nodded his head, letting his arms go limp in Malik's hands. Malik smiled, gently letting go of the boy's hands and started to walk away, waving and saying, "Ten o' clock, tomorrow, the address is on the card. I'll be right there with you, Ryou."

When he was gone, when his form could no longer be seen through the trees, the pale teen nodded again under a blood-red sky, "Right there with me…"


	10. Heat

Disclaimer: I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh. 

Warning: Character deaths, may contain disturbing themes. Rating may change.

Her Sweetness: I'm so tired...

* * *

—A Few Small Repairs—

Heat:

He wasn't sure how long it had taken him to get back on his own street. But then, he wasn't sure of much as he had walked down those lonely streets. Lonely. Lonely for him, it seemed. Everyone else wasn't lonely. They were walking with friends and family. They were always together laughing, talking, sinning in their own minds. But as horrid as they were and as horrid as they would _always be_, they were never _lonely_. And here he was. Gorgeous, pure and saved by his lover who watched over all, he was perfection in the definition.

He did everything for his lover, washing away the filthy ones and at the same time fought off a brilliant entity that destroyed every living thing. And yet, when he walked down the streets and people passed him, unaware that he was hating them, burning them in his deep sanctuaries, he knew they were judging him. Saying in their minds that he was sweet or kind looking. And that he was lonely. How did they know he was lonely? How does everyone seem to be unaware of how awful, disgusting and horrible they are but they know just what was happening in his mind. How?

Maybe, he'd thought before, he'd no longer be lonely. That all his problems, all his loneliness and worries and disguises would no longer matter because of one thing that he had claimed to have saved him. For that one moment in time, he believed Malik would rescue him, set his emancipation. There were so many times when he thought of the blonde with only adoration and love clouding his brown eyes and today, he thought, would define that Malik cared for him too.

And it had.

Three words that Malik had said to him on that beautiful, shimmering lake had defined and set the tone for how he thought his life would go on. And not five minutes from that moment, his world came crashing down. And he was lonely again. Like so many minutes before that one, like so many countless hours spent in front of a window or out on the lawn in his lover's presence or in the dark caverns of his mind feeling his body being touched and caressed.

His motions led him up the driveway of a house he had entered many times before. And as his motions ordered him to get the key out of his pocket, he realized for the first time since leaving the park that he had not stopped starring at that card. White, black print and small, it never left his pale hands on the trip home. Remaining emotionless, he tucked it in his back pocket and pulled out his key. In less than a minute, the door was open and the door was closed and he was inside, standing. Not knowing what to do with himself. He starred into the blood-stained floor and felt a familiar prickle in his eyes. Fighting to keep the tears away, he raised both of his hands to his face and sniffed quietly, sobbed quietly. Quiet so as not to…

_What's wrong, sugar?_

"Oh… N-No, please, go away…" At hearing this one question, his hands came falling down to meet his arms, rubbing them up and down, almost as if he were warming himself when cold. But this was different, this was very different than being cold. He felt warm. Like a heater was blowing on the gentle skin on the back of his neck. He fought back a shiver and let go of himself, dropped his hands and turned to the other side of the room, looking away from where he had previously been looking. As if he could look away from what was bothering him. As if he could just… look away.

There was a very low and swift chuckle that echoed throughout the corridors of his mind. He had heard that shallow laugh so many times before and as it now came again, that voice followed, _You shouldn't be so callous to me, sugar. I only want to help you._

Another sniffle and a sob, more forceful this time. He said something, but it was unheard by anyone and possibly could not be understood by anyone except for the entity who already knew what he was thinking.

_It was something Malik said to you, wasn't it? I wonder if your sadness has anything to do with that card in your pocket… I think it does. What does that card say to upset you, sugar?_

By now, he was kneeling by the sofa on the floor. Knees buckled underneath him and his head resting on the couch cushion for comfort, his brown eyes were red around the corners and his pale face was stained in tears. He buried his face into the cushion and mumbled, "I-It's a… Malik wants me to go to a p-psychiatrist… He says… says I need help. And I do," He sighed, wiping his face with his navy blue jacket sleeve and letting the hand rest on his chest, "I'm not… normal…"

_Is that what you want, sugar? To be normal? To be like every other disgusting, sinful person? Ravaged with impure thoughts and destined to die in an unmarked grave?_ The voice grew louder, and the heat on the back of his neck intensified. It was almost as if Death was mad at him. But that couldn't be right. For as long as he had been aware of the voice's presence, he had never raised his voice to him. He lifted his head from the cushion and starred off into nothing, listening to what the voice was saying, _To be forgotten about after less than a century? To be ugly and filthy for the rest of your life is Malik's goal for you? That's nothing! That's not even possible for you!_

"Why not?" Was his sudden cry, sudden scream. It hadn't meant to be voiced, but it did come out. And now he had to contend with what he said and, not being able to control himself, he continued on, "Why can't I be normal? If being higher, if being above everyone else means having to suffer like I am… having to kill and having to deal with something like you, I'd rather not be pure! I'd rather walk on the street with friends and I'd rather my father come home and live with me! I'd rather that Yugi and Tea be alive right now, not dead by _my_ hand!"

_And you'd do all this… you'd betray your lover like this? Just to please Malik?_

"Yes…" He said slowly, not thinking about his words but thinking about the reason for them. Those hours on that lake the way Malik put his arms around him and the way he felt when they kissed and how Malik had told Death that he'd give up anything… Those were the reasons for his words, "I-I would become impure, I would lose my morals to be with Malik and make him happy. I would do anything, I just… I love him."

Never had he felt a pain like the one he was enduring after those few words. Never had he felt this kind of molten heat springing forth from every pore in his body. His screams were overlapped and drowned out by the screams of the voice in his head, long and deep and filled with a burning passion of distant suns. His body was soon stretched out on the carpet, vanilla and blood colored, his eyes were dilating, wide and empty as two chocolate orbs rolled back in his head. Convulsions of his entire body hit all at once and his hands opened and balled into fists involuntarily while he arched his head back almost to his shoulder blades. Screams continued inside his mind, though they were not coherent ones.

Neither of them could think, their minds were paralyzed as were their bodies for the moment as the teen's body continued in it's seizure-like motions. Shivers took over, constant shivers that vibrated his body and turned him onto his side as his mouth, covered and leaking light foam, opened and he gasped involuntarily, searching for more air. Suddenly, as quickly as it had begun and as painful as it was when it began, it stopped and his body was limp, his face emotionless and his eyes slowly coming back down out of his skull, though they were dark and clouded. And right next to the boy was his look-alike, lain in the same position as he was, in the same clothes and sweating profusely just as he was.

This body, though light and transparent, awoke. Eyelids shot apart from each other and orbs the color of dirty blood were free, currently scrutinizing the form in front of him. The young teen's chest was going up and down softly and the faintest sound of snores could be heard. Death's smile was grim as he propped himself up with one elbow and managed to turn the boy over onto his back. He looked down into the sweet face and he flipped his silver hair onto one side of his face, leaning down and whispering into the boy's ear until two sweet, brown eyes shot open and the teen's weak scream followed by attempts to get away forced Death off of him. He pulled back, no longer smiling but frowning at him.

"I know it hurt. It hurt me, too. But you wouldn't listen to me if you didn't see how serious I was." Death moved a few strands of pale hair that were stuck to the boy's equally pale face. He shook his head, leaning in again and holding his look-alikes chin firmly in one hand, "Malik has never loved you, sugar. And today there was proof, but you were blinded by all those other things. All those other meaningless things. You've mistaken love for lust. And whose fault is that? Well, it certainly isn't yours. Malik's poisoned you, sugar, he's trying to blind you to what he's really doing. What I said he would do from the very start, do you remember?"

"Y-You're… wrong," He panted, out of breath but starred up into Death's face and said, "Malik would never do anything to hurt me. He only wants me to see a psychiatrist to help me, he's going with me…!"

Death's eyes were emotionless as he slowly let go of his look-alike's chin and reached back into the back pocket of his own jeans, pulling out a small, white card. He sat back, taking it in both hands and read it silently until a wicked grin emerged on his face, making the boy scoot up closer to the couch as Death inched over next to him, slowly so as not to make him run away. He held up the card to him, leaning his head tenderly on the boy's shoulder, "Didn't you read the whole thing, sugar? Besides you going just a psychiatrist's office, this is a mental institution… A hospital. They have hundreds of people in similar situations there… Do you know how they're being helped? They're being kept in small rooms there, forbidden to go out, given pills daily to reduce them to nothing but a drooling mass. This is how Malik wants it to be for you. You're dangerous, so he's locking you up."

By this time, the teen was crying again, not sobbing but simply letting drops of water leak from his eyes and face down his already reddened face. He turned his head away to the other side and waved weakly at the card in Death's hand. He continued his fight, "No… No, h-he wouldn't…"

"It's alright." Were the two calming words that settled in the boy's ear. He felt a warm sensation going down his spine again, this time from Death's warm breath trailing down his neck. He wrapped two pale, light arms around the teen's waist and buried his face in the crook of his neck, whispering, "I'm not going to let it happen. You're not going to let it happen. He's hurt you in the worst possible way, I know this, I can feel it inside you… How much you're hurting right now, even though we're separate for the moment, your pain will always be in my heart. Because that's all I am. And as your pain grows, so do I. Sugar. He's not going to hurt you again… And why is that?" When nothing was said, Death simply smirked and answered himself, "Because we're going to hurt him first."

"No!" He cried out, wriggling out of the entity's tight grip and managing to stand on his own legs. He shook his head fiercely and began up the stairs, slowly so as not to stumble, "I don't care what Malik's done or has meant to do, I will not hurt him and I will do everything I can to make sure you don't hurt him either!"

"…" Death watched him go and smiled.

.0.0.

There was only an estimated fifteen minutes that the pale teen had been in his room, alone. But he was not estimating. He was on his bed, on his tear-stained bed, as close to the wall as he could possibly manage. He knew Death was still in the house, he knew he was still mulling around somewhere, but he doubted the creature would come if called. That was the thing. His loneliness was now back tenfold and it was all because of what was on that small, white, perfect little piece of paper. Sitting there, on that bed with covers and blankets bunched up all around him, he felt safe but now at the thought of his best friend wanting to send him to that awful place that Death had described, he felt lonely.

He pulled a pillow closer to him, hiding most of his face. He didn't want to go there. All the pieces were now fitting together. And it was just as the entity had said a day ago, Malik is sending him away because he's dangerous. And all those things on the pier and everything, did those sweet words mean nothing? Were they lies, every last one? He shook his head. That couldn't be. Malik had appeared so sincere when he was telling him… And every time he said those words, they seemed more real than the last time. Like he was falling into reality, away from the rain and away from Death and his solitude. But, like a dream, reality faded away as well.

He moaned into the pillow, trying to fight back a fresh flood of tears. He lost the fight.

"Sugar." That one word rang throughout his hollow bedroom and he immediately lifted his head from the swirling blue comforters around him. His eyelids drooped and he weakly scooted up closer to the wall as his look-alike came over and sat on the bed, smirking gently at him and holding something up. In the near darkness, the boy squinted and hiccupped through his tears, pushing the tool away as Death chuckled, "I was giving you some time to cool off… And look what I found down stairs? Brings back memories, doesn't it…?" He held the screwdriver loosely in his hand and traced it gently around the teen's face and neck and arms. He stopped, setting it down on the floor and got on the bed all the way, smiling when the boy didn't try to stop him.

The boy turned away, "I won't."

Death shook his head, "I'm not going to make you do anything you don't want."

"Then leave me alone…"

"Is that what you really want?"

"Yes."

His smile softened as he slid his hand up the bed and let it rest on his look-alike's stomach. He nodded when he felt the boy shiver beneath him, "Alright, sugar. I'll leave you alone. But this won't."

At first he said nothing but in less than a moment, he put his hand on Death's transparent one. He muttered, "What do you mean… this…?"

His smirk returned and, in one motion, he roughly grabbed the boy and turned him on his back, forcing him to look up at him. He received a terrified yelp from the teen as he straddled his hips and slid both his warm hands under the boy's shirt and slowly rubbed them up and down from his chest to his stomach, firmly. As the boy's eyes continued in their wide, questioning silence, Death spoke, "This fire. This fire deep inside you that ignites whenever you get the slightest bit angry. This is the fire that killed Tea. This is the fire that killed Yugi. This is the fire that brought me to you and now this fire has evolved from a spark to Hell. Because what you have been put through… is Hell. And it wants to burn badly, sugar. It'll consume you if you don't let it loose."

The pale teen watched intensely as Death's hands wandered from his stomach to the small button on his jeans, deftly unsnapping it and then taking his own hand and moving up Death's shirt and onto his chest and stomach. He continued as he let his pale fingers play with the zipper on his pants, "I have a fire, too, sugar. It's the same one as yours. Because we're the same. Whatever you feel, I feel. And I hate it when you feel this way, I want to help you. Just let me."

By the time he had stopped talking, he was slowly pulling his look-alike's pants down by his ankles and massaging his bare inner things, moving one finger down the milky skin, followed by another and he continued that pattern as he repeated, almost in a trance, "Just let me."

In a moment, all of the young teen's clothes were discarded and his beautiful pale skin gleamed in the midnight rays coming through the blinds. There was naught but a small space in between him and Death. He placed his light hand on the slightly lighter one on his thigh and shyly spread his legs from each other. He nodded.


	11. Echo Be Heard

Disclaimer: I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh.

Warning: Character deaths, may contain disturbing themes. Rating may change. (Language)

* * *

—A Few Small Repairs—

Echo Be Heard:

The sun was quite feisty the next day. Though those rain clouds came back from where ever they had hidden during that night, the sun fought it's way to the center of the sky. Heavy grayish clouds surrounded the orb of light and came together, cornering it until only a ray of sunshine was able to make it to the Earth's surface, marking one spot in the city with a healthy beam of light. People below, in the city, moving about their business, looked up at the still fighting sun in gratitude. Oh, how nice it was to see something beautiful after a week of rain and bothersome gloom. They looked up and smiled and loved that one beam of sun no matter how small it might've appeared.

The heavy and gray clouds saw this, saw this gratitude and love all too clearly and were jealous. They looked at the sun as being the source of bothersome gloom, and looked at themselves as bringing peace. But the wretched humans cannot see that, they cannot see true beauty, purity. The heavy and gray clouds would show them true beauty. Would show them that they could live without the sun and would live without it. They moved in, all coming together, gathering their group power and, in one motion, covered the sun and it's one beam. The sky was veiled and though it was still early in the morning, the day felt as if it were almost over.

Why was that?

In the city, a little ways from where that sunbeam was and a long ways from any sunshine, was an alleyway. In between two large buildings, it stood in it's darkness, filled with old boxes and a few dumpsters, it stood unnoticed. People passed it, ran by it, stood by it then moved for fear of standing too close to darkness. But it was not too dark in that alleyway. It couldn't have been. Because two light, chocolate, rounded orbs suddenly appeared and opened and starred out into the busy streets, the busy buildings across the busy streets and more. Those two orbs were light, fluffy and airy and, of course, something that beautiful and inviting could not be dark.

They starred out all the way to the other side of the street, in front of another large building. Earlier in the day, that building's glass windows were shinning with rays that came down from the sun. But now they didn't shine at all and were dull. The two chocolate orbs quickly averted their gaze down to right in front of that building, right by a large white sign. A teenager was standing there, leaning on the sign languidly and checking his watch every so often. But this teenager was different from the others that had passed by the streets and were off somewhere, being obscene, being wasteful of their lives. This teenager was very different. Dark candy skin, large lavender eyes that were complemented with shiny, golden hair, a taught body that was shown off with every outfit he wore. Dream-worthy. Special. Different.

The owner of the coffee brown eyes took a step out of the alleyway that he had been standing in for over an hour. Scrutinizing the other teen's body to no end, he had gotten lost in his thoughts and mind. He had stepped out of the shadows so quickly that it was a mild shock to a few people walking by. They said nothing and simply walked around him as he stood there, still starring across the street. He was not showing off his body like the other. He was dressed casually; white and blue stripped shirt, khaki pants and sneakers. Wasn't that all he really needed?

He stood there, still. Forcing people to walk around him for minutes until finally those glorious lavender eyes from across the street darted away from wherever they might have been and landed right on his casually dressed body. There was a mutual smile and Malik didn't even give a second thought before waving him over. He crossed the street, not waiting for the light or any signal, but made it to the other side and looked up at the building behind the Egyptian. It was big and beautiful. And the sign they were next to was just to tell the people what this big, beautiful building harbored. But then, he already knew.

"You're right on time." Malik had said after looking at his watch and then flipping it over to show his friend that he had come at two minutes before ten. "I was beginning to wonder if you were going to be able to make it." He joked. Of course it was a joke. His friend would've come no matter what.

The paler teen took it good naturedly and smiled before letting his hand come from behind his back and latch onto his friend's, lightly. He looked up into lavender, speaking gently, "I thought about you last night… D-Did you think about me?"

He blinked, almost looking surprised, then shook his head and gave the teen's hand a small squeeze, "Are you kidding? You were _all_ I thought about. I wanted to come over to your house, but I decided not to… I figured you needed the rest. Well… It's about time and we don't want to keep him waiting. Are you ready to go in?"

There was a pause. A quick flicker of brown eyes from looking strait ahead to the ground. He looked back up and tugged a little on Malik's arm, bringing him towards the street, where he was backing up towards. When Malik stalled, looking at him strangely, he nodded and smiled sweetly, "Please, Malik. I want to show you something."

"But, wait a minute. Ryou, your appointment—"

"Can wait, can't it? Can't you postpone it for something I need you for…?" He continued to pull on the darker teen's arm and he didn't put up much of a fight. They crossed the street like that and people starred. They reached the other side safely and were back to right in front of that same alleyway he had come out of. He pointed down the street and attempted to pull Malik with him. He said, eyelids drooped, "There's just something I want to show you, Malik, it won't… it won't take long at all." When Malik pulled his arm away, he whirled around, eyes now wide and pleading, "Malik, please!"

"Ryou! This can't wait! I… I can understand if you're scared or nervous, but," His eyes and tone softened as he moved foreword, and took the boy by the shoulders and pulled him a little closer, "I'm going to be there, in the room with you. If you want, I'll hold your hand the entire time, I won't leave you. But you have to come, this is too important to just walk away from."

"You don't understand, this'll only take a minute! I promise… I promise that we can come back right after this, alright? Please come with me, Malik. Please?" His eyes got bigger, watery, almost as if he were about to cry. But he looked so tired, like he was worn out. Malik looked back at the building and then at his watch and then back to his friend who was still looking at him with those large, beautiful doe-eyes.

Malik sighed inwardly, "If this is quick…"

"It will be." He nodded, a little lilt appearing in his voice as he took Malik by the hand once again and began walking down the street and turned a corner. Malik had, during their walk, asked several times what it was that his companion wanted to show him, if it had anything to do with the appointment or if anyone was hurt. When the paler teen said nothing, he ceased his questioning and followed, letting himself be led to somewhere.

Eventually, the somewhere he was being led to revealed itself to be the park in the center of the city. Lush, green leaves blew in the breeze and the grass below their feet tilted and swayed as the leaves did. They had gone much too far for Malik's comfort and he was about to stop his companion and demand to know where they were going, but as he opened his mouth to voice his opinion, they stopped. He looked up only to find that they were in front of a shed. In the middle of that park, there was this shed, he remembered, where no one ever went. It was old, aluminum and tinged with rust stains all over. His companion opened the door, it creaked, and he walked in, swaying his lithe hips from side to side as he disappeared into the darkness of the old, forgotten structure.

Malik hesitated for a second before entering himself. When his body was all the way inside, the door shut behind him and he whirled around, squinting in the darkness. His eyes darted around before he rubbed them, trying to get used to the abyss, "R-Ryou? I can't see very well… Did you want to show me something in here?"

"Yes, I did, Malik." His voice rang from behind him, by the door, and Malik turned his head just in time to see his companion's pale face in the now-lit room. His hand was on a chain that led to a lone and bare light bulb that hung in the middle of the shed, covering more than half of the shack in naked, florescent lighting. His companion's head was tilted downwards, as if he were looking to the ground. His lips moved, mutely and after a moment of silence passed, Malik spoke, "Well, what is it?"

The teen's head jerked up and he looked at him with sad eyes. A soft, pained moan escaped his lips and before the Egyptian knew it, his friend was standing beside himself. A slightly paler him that was little less than transparent in the bright light. Malik instinctively jumped back and was up against the wall opposite the two albinos as his eyes widened and he looked at who he knew to be his friend in question. There was nothing but silence as the boy's eyes became more somber by the second and his other self moved from beside him, taking a powerful step foreword. His bloody, chocolate orbs gleamed as he grinned, "I can't believe you were foolish enough to come here. And here I thought you had more smarts than that. Guess I was wrong."

"R-Ryou—!"

"Do not speak to him!" Death shouted abruptly as Malik had looked to the boy behind him. He sneered, taking another step foreword and running a hand quickly through his spiky, silver locks as he advanced on the tanned teen, "He's heard enough of your lies already. He knows what you had planned to do to him, he knows what would've happened after that appointment."

Malik's eyes widened and then narrowed into lilac slits as he glared at the albino that was now only a foot away in distance, "If Ryou would go to that psychiatrist, he would finally be helped! Maybe they could help him get rid of you! Ryou," He turned his head, looking right passed Death and to the boy on the other side of the shed who had been silent since they arrived. He shouted, "I only care about your happiness and safety! Nothing bad would've happened, you're letting him lie to you! That facility only helps people and I would've been with you whenever you went. Ryou, nothing bad is going to happen there."

His head was still bowed and both the other beings in the room watched him intently as a tear fell from his face and hit the wooden floorboards under their feet. He muttered something and Malik whispered that he couldn't hear what he had said. His head immediately jerked up, a tear-stained face revealed and narrowed chocolate vats as he screamed, "I'm not upset over the fucking institution! Malik! It's you! I thought you loved me! How could you think that they could ever have helped someone like me? I didn't want to go, you saw that I didn't want to go when you handed me the card! You said you loved me over and over again but… but this is still happening, and I-I…"

There was a second when all that was heard were small sniffles and hiccups as the boy tried to pull himself together. Malik found his voice, though it cracked under threat of crying, "R-Ryou, I do love you. Everything I've done this past week has been for you, Ryou, I'd give up anything for you to be alright!"

"Then I'm glad we're on the same page."

Malik turned back to Death who had since folded his arms over his chest and had let his eyes move from his look-alike to the tanned boy in front of him. He reached down into his pocket and pulled out that same yellow and black tool. Twirling it between fingers, he continued speaking, "I'm not here for my health. Ryou is my main concern. I'm very sure you can't even fathom how hurt he feels right now. But I can, I can feel it as if it were me being thrashed," He held up his free hand to his heart, smiling wickedly, "It makes me sick to think of it. He wants his pain to end, you've cause nothing but misery and confusion for him. And since you openly admit to wanting to give up anything for his happiness, then we can get this over quickly."

"This doesn't concern you!"

Death snarled, "Doesn't concern me? Let me tell you something, Malik; as long as you're alive, as long as he's alive and as long as I'm his lover, this will _always_ concern me!"

There was not a second between when he stopped talking to the time that his hand struck out at Malik, successfully wrapping around his throat and tightening the grip until the teen was sinking to the floor, eyes wide and hands scratching and clawing at the fist around his neck. His fingernails were scraping against knuckles and bare, pale flesh, tearing the hand and forcing it to bleed. Malik's hoarse scream was tinged with unbelievable pain as Death got closer to him and raised his shirt up, taking the screwdriver in his hand and running it harshly across old wounds, reopening them and tearing apart the stitches, letting a river of blood flow.

He screamed again and so did his companion on the other side of the room. Both for similar reasons. The small albino was on the floor with his knees raised to his chest and his forearms covering his ears as he shook his head violently, from side to side. The screaming still got through and he was beside himself, trying to shout over it, "I loved you, Malik! This didn't have to happen!"

Malik angled his chin just before he felt himself getting light-headed and bit down on the hand that was attacking him, forcing Death to let go and that gave Malik his chance to kick the entity off his body. When he was let alone, he groaned in agony, arching his back and feeling the warm crimson that ran down his back and splattered the wall he was sitting by. He winced, managing to look at his companion who was still against the other wall, sobbing and screaming something incoherent. He whispered harshly, "R-Ryou, please listen… I-I _do_ love you, believe me…! He's only telling you lies, he just wants you under his control! But y-you can fight this, Ryou, don't let him control what happens!"

"Stop saying that!" He screamed, clenching his teeth together and leaning his head on the thin wall of the shed, trying to listen to the now falling rain just outside the aluminum, "There's nothing you can do for me!"

Malik growled, his eyes shifting from Ryou to Death who was up again. He threw his hair back and revealed a face torn in half by a malicious grin, his pale fist tightening on the screwdriver he held as he came at Malik again. The tanned boy screamed, "I'm not letting go of you, Ryou!"

He hadn't the change to answer Malik when a bloodcurdling erupted from the Egyptian's throat, filling the shed with the sound of blood and tears. He jerked his head up, watery eyes widening at seeing his new lover having Malik turned on his stomach and was continuing to scratch the already beyond bloody wounds, a look of pure pleasure on Death's face as he moaned at the pained screams coming from his victim. Death lowered his head, continuing his torture to the boy's back and whispered into his ear, "Scream. Scream now that you love him. You have one last time to say it… after all, all those deaths over the past week were not my work. Your love was doing it on his own will, deep inside of him, there was the desire. And now this desire is bringing you to an end." There was a cold chuckle, "Isn't it sad?"

He screamed out something unintelligible and suddenly, he felt his attacker cease the pain and then no longer felt the weight of his body on top of his back. His eyes were wet with tears and the rest of his body was beyond broken and disrepair, but he managed to move his head, to look behind him only to see Death standing and Ryou now beside him, with the screwdriver in hand and leaning down, his head beside Malik's and his eyes wet and tired.

His voice cracked as he stroked the soft, golden hair, "Death told me… that man cannot live on bliss alone. There must be sadness and grief…"

"Ryou—"

"At the end of the world… If I'm the last thing you see…"

"I love you…"

"Make sure to tell me that."

There were two screams after that. After the tool was raised. After the tool was brought down with enough force. After blood spilt and ran like a river… He closed his eyes and leaned over the body, resting his head on golden strands of silk. And in the midst of the rain, as it poured down outside and all over the world, someone screamed 'murderer' into the wind. It wasn't until later that he found out… it was himself.

—_There were so many things…_—

"_Please, please…" She repeated, her eyes shut tight and quivering beneath him. Tears were streaming down her face as she managed to look him in the eyes, "Please don't, Ry—"_

"_You're so dirty…"_

"_Please!"_

"_I can't help you."_

—_So many things that never should have happened…_—

_Enjoy that feeling, sugar. It won't last forever._

—_And I begin to take my time when thinking about it…_—

"_Come here." He grabbed onto the teen's arms with his hands and pulled him close, up to where they were behind a tree close to the street. When he was sure no one was around or listening, he continued, "Whatever you've done, whatever you were going to do, I want it to stop, right now. I know you. And I know how you feel sometimes, trust me, but this is not the way… Go home. What I need for you to do is go home, I'll come with you. I'll stay with you all night if you want, but you need to go home. You can't be out here." He let out a breath, letting go of one of his hands and reached down, feeling the tip of the rusty screwdriver, running his fingers over it and shuddering, "We need to go to your house, alright?"_

"_B-But…"_

"_It's okay." Malik let his eyelids droop and his forehead touched his friend's, "We'll make sure that nothing happens to anyone and certainly not to you… I won't tell…"_

—_Because after the rain stops, it hurts me to know…_—

_His head jerked up, his crying silent but loud, his eyes wet and dry. He mouthed, "What…?"_

"_Do you want to know my secret, Yugi?" His hands wandered across the boy's chest, playfully teasing the hem of his shirt and dragging the screwdriver's head in a circle on the skin above his heart. He smiled and purred into his neck, "My… my secret is that… I'm not Ryou."_

—_That even though we were in true love, real love…_—

_A low chuckle passed Death's lips again as he looked at the trembling boy in amusement, "Stubborn… I love it. Sugar, you know what we have to do, don't you? Malik has to go… but don't worry, sugar. I'll do most of the work."_

_His eyes widened immensely and he pushed Death away, shouting now and almost all his tears had been depleted, " No! I won't let you! I swear it, you can't do this, you can't! I won't let you harm the only person who loves me!"_

—_We were unhappy in the end…_—

_He shouted before sitting up and crushing his lips to his friend's. There was a moment, a small millisecond or choke in time where nothing happened. Neither one of them moved and the earth stopped just for this one second. Then, after that small millisecond, after the earth took a breath… Everything started up again and the next thing the pale youth knew, he was aggressively fisting the Egyptian teen's hair and forcing a groan out of the boy. Malik's eyes flew open, lilac orbs going slightly back and forth showing that his mind was trying to make sense out of what was happening._

_Ooh, sugar, you just couldn't resist, could you? _

_Suddenly, the tanned boy pulled back, holding his hand over his mouth loosely and looking worriedly at his companion who seemed in some kind of daze, his eyelashes fluttering open and lightly chewing on his bottom lip._

_He gasped, "Who said that…?"_

_The paler of the two smiled sadly and gripped at his chest, wincing, "Y-You could hear…" _

—_I wonder if that's what we were destined for?_—

"_I never want to be hurt like that again."_

—_I'll be unhappy with my decisions for a while._—

"_I-I would become impure, I would lose my morals to be with Malik and make him happy. I would do anything, I just… I love him."_

—_It was just a few small repairs, just really, really small. How could everything have gone so wrong?_—

Sunshine spread across the city in a fit of energy. It hit against the shimmering water of the lake along with the drops of dew on the blades of grass that gently swayed beside the body of water. The sunbeams made their way all across the city. The buildings, now with shiny windows, were hit with the sun as it continued onwards, spreading itself about. The glares of the sun on the windows of each building reflected off each other. One particular beam made the journey into a building's window with the shades and curtains open.

The beam spilt across the floor, illuminating the room and almost setting the maroon-colored carpet on fire with brilliance. The door to this spacious room was opened and a man walked in, setting his brown briefcase down by his desk. Then seating himself, he stacked a pile of papers and flipped through a folder, looking at a picture of a young man and skimming over the file as his eyes saddened. He cleared his throat and looked up, hiding the bit of sadness in his eyes and letting a smile shine through, matching the one of the carpet. He nodded to the youth on the couch, about a five foot distance from his desk. "Mr. Bakura, I'm glad you could make it after all. Are you ready to begin?"

"… Yes. I am."

* * *

**— Owari —**

* * *

Her Sweetness: That's all she wrote, folks. Let me just say, quickly, that I thank each and every person who reviewed. This has been my first time writing like this and so I really needed some kind of feedback.

Chapter six is currently misplaced and will be reposted as soon as I can find my other copy and post it again, please be patient, I know it's confusing.

Thanks again for my reviewers and please be kind enough to at least review now and tell me your thoughts.

Goodbye and Goodluck.


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